


Wedding March

by Writerleft



Series: Comes Marching Home [40]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, F/M, Hijinks, Multichapter, Wedding, generally light-hearted, this story's time has finally come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-08 00:42:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12853032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerleft/pseuds/Writerleft
Summary: Korra and Asami are getting married! Surely, it will be a simple, smooth ceremony, right?(This work has multiple chapters... so no.)





	1. A Song in Her Heart

It was just the sort of perfect day Kadu had envisioned, strolling arm in arm with Miksa through Avatar Korra park. Spirits flitted among the plants, and the sun shone bright among stately clouds. Families played on the grass, couples relaxed in the shade. A surprising number of tourists were scattered around the Avatar’s statue, but that was more common all the time.

A ball rolled off the grass, from some children playing nearby. Miksa stooped to grab it, smiling and throwing it back. The girl chasing after it tried to stop as it sailed over her head, and wound up wobbling onto her backside. Miksa giggled in her adorable way. “Cute kid,” she said.

Kadu cleared his throat. Kids! He knew Miksa wanted a family, one day. He did too, but the idea of it… didn’t make the pressure he was under any easier. The day was perfect, he just needed to find a perfect moment…

“So,” Miksa asked, resuming their walk, “how have things been at the office? Managing to disentangle any more paperwork snarls?”

“Trying to keep them from snarling to begin with,” Kadu muttered. He was never sure what to think, when she brought up his work. Here they were, walking beneath the statue of the Avatar, a woman who could shift the world on her own accord, and he was just… a guy, who filed papers. Even if he was high up in his office, he still felt, well, _boring_.

Sure, most people were the same way. Benders got all the heroics, non-benders cleaned up the mess and just tried to live. Miksa had never said anything to suggest she wanted more, expected more of him.

But still.

“Nothing as bad as the flowers incident, then?” Miksa teased.

Kadu groaned. Asami Sato’s little stunt, buying flowers for the Avatar from every florist in the city to be delivered at the same time, had snarled traffic for half a day. The flowers themselves had cost thousands of yuans to remove, and all told, by his numbers, it had cost the city 50,000 yuans in lost productivity.

Nobody had _asked_ him for those numbers of course. Miksa knew it was a sore spot, and seemed to like making fun. The smile it gave her, though… “No. Nothing like that.”

Miksa chuckled. “Well, I know how you feel, but I still think it was terribly romantic! Who else could pull off something like that?”

Kadu kept his face still, thinking of the engagement ring weighing down his pocket. “It certainly does raise the bar,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I know! What do you think Korra will do in response? Smart money is on carving Asami’s face into one of the mountains over the city.”

Kadu stifled a groan. Generations would have to stare down a symbol of the two women’s love, just because nobody could keep the Avatar in check? Why was their relationship so damned important that they could rampage all over the city gushing about it?! “I’m more concerned with the ulcers their wedding is going to give me.”

Miksa rolled her eyes. “I swear, there’s not a romantic bone in your body!”

Kadu winced. This was precisely the wrong direction for this conversation to be going in. “I wouldn’t say that! I mean… I mean, spending time with you, on a beautiful day like this, all the more beautiful because your smile is more beautiful than… wait…”

Miksa laughed, patting his cheek. “That was a good attempt, honey. Not particularly smooth…”

Kadu looked away, feeling himself blush. How could he tell her how much he loved her when she rendered him inarticulate! Her kindness, her patience… the way the smile lit her whole face, brightened the world around her...

“You deserve smoothness, though! You deserve a heap of smoothness!”

“A heap?” she laughed.

“I mean…” he rubbed his eye, frustrated. “A lifetime.”

Miksa stopped. “A… lifetime?”

Oh, heck. This was the moment! Kadu took a step, putting himself in the shadow of Korra’s statue so he could look Miksa in the eyes without squinting. He took her hands, swallowed hard. If there was ever a time to get his words straight, it was now. “Miksa—”

Half a dozen trumpets blasted the rest of his sentence away, splitting the peaceful day and startling Miksa into a stumble. Kadu caught her, just as they both cast about to see what was going on.

A woman’s voice rang out across the park, singing along to the brass-band accompaniment: “ _Hey, Asami! You’re so gorgeous, that I wrote you a song!_ ”

Kadu’s gut sank like a stone as Miksa led them around the statue, their conversation forgotten. Sure enough, Avatar Korra was there, surrounded by a small brass band, pointing at her shocked and delighted fiance.

Beside him, Miksa clapped. “Oh gosh! Kadu, we get to see!”

“ _Hey, Asami!_ ” Korra danced, pivoting on her foot and gyrating to the beat, “ _You’re so amazing, the whole world sings along!”_

As the brass band played another fanfare and Korra spun in place, all the tourists who had been loitering about the park suddenly faced the couple, tearing off coats and vests to reveal sequined shirts underneath. Asami Sato gasped, her hands clasped against her chest as the dancers streamed into formation behind the Avatar.

Kadu made a fist. Why here? Why today?

Miksa looked on, cackling with delight.

Why could _he_ never earn the look on her face right now?

“ _Asami Sato!_ ” sang the backup dancers, as Korra swooped in and took Asami in her arms. She sang, “ _you’re the CEO of my heart._ ”

She strode forward, dipping Asami low, then spinning her against herself on the way back up.

“ _Asami Sato!”_

“ _I never want to be apaaaaart!_ ”

Kadu felt the tiny velvet box in his pocket, the little ring that cost him two months’ pay. As another couple’s love cavorted around them in rhythmic precision, he withdrew his hand, leaving the box where it was. How could he ever compete with _this_ ? How could anyone? He loved Miksa, but… brass bands? Backup dancers? _Public singing_?

For Miksa’s sake, he wore a smile, as his mood grew dark. This wasn’t fair.

But maybe there was something he could do about it.

 

—

 

President Lin Beifong looked at the newspaper beside her breakfast, and snorted. “What did those two do now?”

“Song and dance number,” Kya muttered from across the table, sipping tea blearily. She still hadn’t adjusted to Lin’s early schedule, but as Republic City’s effective First Lady, she suddenly had social responsibilities. All the more shocking, to Lin and Kya both, was that Kya was doing her dead-level best to live up to them.

Lin scanned the article, absently biting into a steamed bun. “Is it their anniversary or something?”

Kya shook her head. “I dunno. I think they think it’s better if the other one doesn’t know it’s coming.”

“Mnf.” The traffic snarl hadn’t been as bad this time, though there’d been a huge number of noise complaints. Of _course_ Korra would use airbending to amplify her singing... “They get married in two months, you’d think they would be saving their energies for that, wouldn’t you?”

“Mhm,” Kya said.

A knock came on the doorway. Lin glanced up from the paper, and saw her chief of staff Riss, holding a folder in one hand and a briefcase in the other. Already, work was piling up… and she was beginning to realize how much of what he was holding wouldn’t even be resolved by this evening, either. “Come in,” she said. “What’s on the itinerary today?”

Riss took two steps in the door, setting the briefcase by his feet then opening the folder. “First up is a meeting with the Fire Nation ambassador. It seems there are more interests in protocol…”

Lin pinched her nose. “Again? Riss, don’t tell me this is going to be about the wedding, again. They have to understand I’m nothing more than a guest there.”

“Surprisingly, no. At least, not directly,” her Chief of Staff chuckled. “It seems Princess Hotaru wishes to spend some time in the United Republic, as her brother did.”

She quirked her eyebrow. Iroh’s younger sister had a reputation for… flightiness. “She doesn’t want to be a general, does she?”

Riss shook his head. “It seems her interests—currently—go more towards journalism.”

Lin groaned. “Politics, complicated family dynamics, and the media. You’ve wrapped all my favorite things together in one person, thanks.”

Riss shrugged. “I didn’t precisely make her up just to spite you, Madam President.”

She grunted, folding the newspaper and setting it aside. “What else?”

He nodded at the paper beside her half-eaten breakfast. “We’ve been receiving complaints about that, too.”

“What? Sato and the Avatar? Who’s complaining?”

“Well, most notably, the Bureau of Public Works says that the dancing scuffed up the pavement, all the streamers and confetti from the finale will take days to remove from the greenery, and one pyrotechnic display caught a topiary on fire. Given that this was an unsanctioned public musical performance, quite a few city codes were technically in violation as well.”

Lin crossed her arms. Pyrotechnics? Really? “So… what, they have to pay some fines?”

“That too. Only… it turns out, the application to hold the wedding processional from New Downtown to the docks is still under review.”

“The… people have been building their floats for weeks already. It’s turned into this whole big parade.”

“Right. But Public Works isn’t convinced that it would be in the city’s financial interests. And might I add, before you use your authority to make this problem go away, consider the optics of easing government restriction on your personal friends.”

“Personal frien… it’s the _Avatar_ and _Asami Sato_. They city wouldn’t even BE here if not—”

Riss held a finger to his lips, nodding across the table from Lin. Kya was snoring softly, her head lolled back in her chair.

Lin’s annoyance evaporated into a fond smile. She stood, quietly, and followed Riss out to the foyer, glancing back at her dozing girlfriend.

“Madam President?”

“Mm? Right. The parade. For two women who have saved the city how many times now? They deserve it.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Ma’am. I thought you should be apprised of the situation, but I suggest referring it to the planning committee.”

“So, what, I can’t solve the problem myself, but I can pass it off to other friends and relatives and that’s fine?”

Riss shrugged. “Your preexisting relationships with so many prominent people are going to be as much a liability as an asset, at times. You ran, in part, to ensure this wouldn’t be a government ran by cronyism. And you told me the day you hired me that my number one job was to keep you honest.”

Lin grumbled. “Fine. Just… find out who is bringing up all this fuss, and pass the information along.”

“Will do,” Riss said. “Besides… as much pressure as you might be able to bear as President, it would truly take a fool to cross the wedding planning committee.”

“You know, you’re right?” She chucked. “Okay, that’s settled then. What else?”

 

—

 

Kai kept his breathing measured, feeling the wind change around him as he stepped into the spinning gates, a blindfold tight around his eyes. Gentle wooden creaking and leaves in the wind were the only sounds, beside his steady heartbeat.

Tension and excitement threatened to bubble up—this wasn’t just a training exercise!—but all the training he _had_ gone through kept him calm as he moved. He did not worry about how deep into the gates he was, how close he came to their spinning, how far he had yet to go. He simply was. He flowed.

It almost came as a surprise when he flowed right through the other side, as untouched as the wind itself. He stood, fists together, waiting.

Footsteps came, one set with a cane. Tenzin would always be an Airbending Master… but he’d never make it through the gates again, as Kai just had.

“Excellent work,” Tenzin said, removing the blindfold and setting his hand on Kai’s shoulder. “Your form was perfect. If I didn't know any better, I might say you and Master Jinora have been practicing privately.”

Kai put his meditation practice to good work, and kept his face calm as he turned an acknowledging face toward her. “A wise student avails himself many sources of wisdom. And a wise master takes the time to foster a promising student.”

Jinora’s face was also studiously blank as she bowed her head at him. “I could not have passed the gates any more smoothly. Congratulations.”

Euphoria buffeted his calm from behind, but he kept calm. Composure, too, was a test he needed to pass—probably the hardest one left for him, now that he’d passed the hours of history recitations. “Thank you, both. Is there another task for me to perform today?”

Tenzin looked at his daughter. “We had planned to test your skills with the glider next, but we conferred this morning, and agreed that your skills have already been proven time and again.”

Airbender humility was all well and good, but Kai knew he was the most nimble user of the glider suit besides Meelo, and that boy’s growth spurts were wreaking havoc on his aerodynamics. He bowed his head again. “Thank you, Masters, for allowing me to prove myself.”

“Kai,” Tenzin said, an unexpected warm note to his voice. “It’s alright if you relax. We still have to consult with the elder acolytes, but neither of us see any reason not to recommend you for Master.”

“Truly, Master Tenzin?”

“Yes, of course,” he chuckled. “How could we not?”

“I meant, is it truly alright if I relax? I would not wish for any emotional displays to work against me.”

“We strive for balance, not stillness,” Tenzin said. “By which I mean—yes, you may celebrate. Loudly, even.”

Kai _whoop_ ed, leaping into the air, laughing his tension out as he came down beside his girlfriend. “Permission to kiss your daughter, sir?”

“Goodness… yes if you must,” Tenzin said, not turning away but his eyes moving elsewhere.

Jinora smiled, her lips trembling. He swept in for a kiss and

...why was she so stiff? Just because her dad was there?

Kai pulled away, puzzled. Jinora smiled weakly, not meeting Kai’s gaze.

“We will present our recommendation at the next meeting,” Tenzin said, turning away. “And if I may say, personally, I am proud to anoint the first new Airbending Master from outside my family in nearly two centuries. Avatar Aang would be overjoyed to see the Air Nation growing again.”

Jinora tensed beside him, but he managed not to frown. “Thank you, sir. I may not be a Master yet, but I do consider it my duty to suggest you go sit down, though.”

Tenzin smiled. “Just so. Good day, Kai. Jinora.”

They stood together and watched him, ever so slowly, make his way back into the temple.

Kai turned toward Jinora, taking her hands. “Hey, are you alright?”

Jinora opened her mouth, her breath catching. “I… there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Sounds serious,” Kai frowned. “Like, life and death.”

She shook her head, holding his hands tight. “Just life,” she whispered.

 

—

 

“I never knew you had such a beautiful singing voice,” Asami said, laying across Korra’s back. Korra had had the presence of mind to plan her song-and-dance spectacle when Asami had the next day off. They’d been up _very_ late, and all Korra had to do was hum a few bars to get Asami grinning like mad.

“You never asked,” Korra said, one arm reaching back so she could run her fingers idly through Asami’s hair. “It’s kind of a big thing, back home. Granted, tribal singing isn’t the same as that razz-ma-tazz I gave ya…”

Asami snickered. “Yeah, I would have remembered the sequins from my research.”

“Research?” Korra arched an eyebrow, turning to see Asami’s face, but the angle was impossible.

Asami nodded, her chin grinding into the crook of Korra’s neck. “I know you said weddings are fairly low-key in the Southern Water Tribe, but I still wanted to look up your rituals. Even outside of being the Avatar, you’re an important person there, considering who your parents are.”

“Sure, but… I told you, the engagement is the important thing, Sparks! And that monster of a narwhalrus we found couldn’t have _been_ more auspicious.”

Asami smiled at that particular victory—the beast’s horn was mounted in their living room, since none of their bedroom walls were long enough. “I know. But… I just want this to be your wedding too. And your parents! Your parents have been so amazing, Korra, I really want them to know that I respect your culture, I want them to feel like I belong…”

Korra rolled out from under her fiance, reaching up to push hair from Asami’s face. “Never question that you belong, Asami. You’ve more than earned your place. Besides, who would dare deny it?” Korra cracked her knuckles.

Asami took hold of Korra’s fist, unravelling it, kissing her fingers. “I know. Maybe… I still don’t feel like I belong enough yet.”

Korra pursed her lips. “I love you, Asami. I… know I haven’t always made that easy—”

“Korra—”

“—but you mean the world to me. You have nothing to prove.”

“I… maybe,” Asami admitted. “But even so… I don’t want you to look back, at our wedding, and wish something had gone differently. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I… thought we learned our lesson about ‘perfect’,” Korra said. She shook her head. “Asami, the closer and closer we get to this, the more I wonder what all the spectacle is for. This is about us, right?”

“Korra. You just arranged thirty person ‘impromptu’ musical number for me during a casual walk in the park. And now _you’re_ complaining about spectacle?”

Korra rolled her eyes. “You loved it.”

“I did!” Asami admitted, pulling Korra into a kiss. “But that’s my point. I’d never have asked for anything like that, but it fills my heart to bursting that you did it. That’s why… I think we should do our vows like in the South.”

“You… you want to _sing_ our vows? In front of all our friends and all the world leaders and everyone?”

“I’m… not sure _want_ is the right word, but it feels right. I read about the tradition and it really does sound lovely! I want… I know this whole thing has gotten way bigger than you wanted. I just want this one part of it to be special for you.”

“I… I understand, Asami.” Korra squeezed Asami’s hands, and stared at her with those wide, wide eyes that took Asami’s breath away. “If you want to, I will certainly support it. Mom and Dad will be delighted—”

“Let’s surprise them with it,” Asami suggested. “As a gift!”

Korra grinned. “They’ll already be crying, but that will wreck them in the best way. Okay. Only… Asami, I’ve never heard you sing, either.”

Asami nodded, then sat up, pulling a sheet with her absently to keep herself covered. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and sang the first thing to come to mind: “ _Asami Sato, she’s the best in wo-orld… Asami Sato, she’s my for-e-ver gi-irlll…_ ”

Korra’s hand touched hers. She felt herself blushing. “Well?” Asami asked.

Korra chewed her lip. “We… we’ll need to practice.”

 


	2. A Quick Talk with Mom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ring shopping! And other concerns...

“Are you sure this is the way we should be doing this?” Korra asked, crouching next to the display case, holding Asami's hand.

“It's not like I've gotten married before, either,” Asami said, her eyes scanning the rings. “It makes sense for us to have each other's opinion on the rings we'll be wearing the rest of our lives.”

“What material bands are you thinking?” asked the jeweler, pulling out a selection of rings from a drawer. “We have everything from white gold to the newest metal, aluminium. Incredibly light-weight yet strong—”

“I'm quite aware of the properties of aluminium,” Asami said with a chuckle. “We're trying to figure out a rendering method that'll make it way cheaper. I hope to be making planes out of the stuff in the next few years.”

“Yes,” the jeweler muttered, taking a breath. “Right.”

Korra leaned over the display. “Oh, don't give the man a hard time,” Korra scolded. “Most of his customers don't own foundries.” Asami nodded, blushing a little, while Korra turned her attention to the jeweler. “Honestly, given the kind of lives we lead, they probably need to be pure platinum. I'd rather not wear something a metalbender could control my hand with.”

“Ah. Good point.” The bell rang from the front room, and he licked his lips, setting the tray down. “Normally, I don't leave customers back here unsupervised, but...”

Asami chuckled. “We can come out with you, if you need us to.”

“No, nono no... I'll just be a moment.”

Korra chuckled, then started looking at the rings again. “I dunno, Sparks. Doesn't this take some surprise out of it, shopping together?”

Asami quirked an eyebrow up at her fiance. “Why would wedding rings be a surprise?”

“I... I thought they were supposed to be!”

She laughed, squeezing Korra's hand. “That's the engagement rings, honey.”

“Wait, wait, wait...” Korra stood, frowning. “Republic City tradition involves _two_ rings?”

“Redundant, isn't it?” Asami erased Korra's frown with a kiss. “We kinda skipped the first one. And no, I don't expect you to make it up to me. We're quite thoroughly engaged at this point. It's not like somebody is going to swoop in and steal me.”

Korra smirked. “You sure you'd be the one getting stolen?”

Asami laughed with her, honestly thrilled every time she heard Korra thinking so highly of herself. She tended toward self-deprecation at times, and one of Asami's long-term goals had been to train that out of her. “Get you away from me? I'd like to see somebody try.”

Shouts came from the front of the store. They quirked eyebrows at each other, and Korra cracked the door open.

Asami saw the flavor of her smirk. “Are they seriously being robbed?” she asked.

Korra chuckled lightly. “Yeah. Two guys and a lady. One guy's metalbending rings into a sack. Lady's got fire against the jeweler.”

“I call firebender.”

“You always call firebender.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “Fine, you can have her.”

“I wasn't complaining.”

“Do you want her or—”

The jeweler yelped.

“I'll get the metalbender then,” Asami said. “We'll see who gets the third.”

Korra grinned, her beautiful aquamarine eyes glimmering at Asami, then slammed the door open, charging out.

Everybody in the shop jerked in shock, by which point Korra was already separating the firebender from her hostage with airbending, and Asami was leaping sideways over the counter. The robbers had only started to move as Asami slipped her foot behind the metalbender's neck, twisting to pull his head down hard enough to shatter the glass case. He didn't move exactly as he planned, but Asami adjusted her landing into a roll.

The other man looked at her-wide-eyed, thoughts bouncing around in his head as he tried to process what was going on. The metalbender straightened, face bloodied and eyes dazed, but upright enough for the uninjured criminal to think he had good odds.

Asami moved just as the decision to continue solidified in his eyes—oh, there was an idea!

“I know what we should do!” Asami shouted, judging the third assailant to be a firebender from his stance, and springing around the attack just as he made it. She brought the butt of her palm up against his chin, sending him flying back.

“What's that?” Korra asked, glass shattering somewhere in her vicinity.

Asami focused on the bloodied metalbender as they circled each other. The other man was still down, groaning but still. “You know how I painted my car blue when you were gone?”

“Among other things, sure!” Korra's opponent suddenly flew into Asami's, tangling each other up as they fell. Korra landed lightly after him, shaking her wrist loose as she walked around them. “What about it?”

Asami knelt beside the dazed man on the floor, watching how he moved his head and eyes. “Well, it made me think of you. That's the idea with the rings. And while blue may be your default wardrobe color, you have the most arresting eyes.”

Korra grinned. “Speaking of arresting, you _did_ call the cops?” she called to the back of the store.

“Y...yeah!” the jeweler's assistant said.

Asami crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “Aquamarine, I'd say for you. That would look good on my finger. Do you think you could handle my yellowy-green on yours?”

“What... what would that be, some special kind of emerald?”

Asami shrugged, and turned to the stunned jeweler, still picking over the wreckage of his shop. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

“Oh,” he said, giving her a quick stare. “Perhaps... I have some light peridots that would fit the bill. Not normally a great seller...”

“Well,” Korra said, “label them the Asami Sato collection, and you can jack up the price and sell all you have.”

Asami rolled her eyes, but liked the way Korra was looking at her enough to forgive the flattery. Mostly.

“What?” Korra asked. “I'm not wrong.”

Asami opened her mouth to retort, but the man beneath her started to stir. She stepped on his shoulder, just enough to keep him still, then flicked her hair over her shoulder. “You trying to start a career in marketing?”

Korra looked her up and down, shaking her head and biting her lip. “Once these goons are off our hands, how quickly can you get us home?”

“Aren't you going to make a purchase?” the jeweler quailed.

“Oh, we will,” Asami said, her eyes locked on Korra's thirsty, thirsty aquamarines. “But it looks like something more pressing came up.”

 

–--

 

Kadu had been slightly ashamed of the petty little thrill that went up his back as he filed the objections to the parade. Not that he had any doubt that the President or Sato herself would get the details worked out quickly enough, but given the amount of paperwork those women's antics had forced him to do, it was about time they had to file some as well.

Still, ridiculous as it had been, it was a minor thing. So far as he knew, the parade hadn't been either the Avatar or Asami Sato's idea, but it still felt like a tiny bit of justice for how they'd steamrolled over his proposal.

Then, another form came across his desk. A notification of delay on certain low-priority projects. That was routine enough, but he scanned those impacted, sure, _just_ sure that...

And there it was.

His neighborhood and Miksa's were quite close, geographically—if he went out onto his fire escape, climbed up three floors, and leaned out over the side from the cat lady's apartment, he could just see the roof of her building. But a flood control culvert ran between them, usually dry but full of debris and what the local kids widely defended as 'street art.' He'd scampered across it time to time, but there'd been complaints about it for ages. Miksa said she wished she could come visit him more easily, and she preferred the better markets on his side of the ditch, but carrying groceries down and back up was a fast way to spilled groceries.

When he'd found an old proposal for pedestrian bridges over the city's culverts and rivers, he'd championed it. It had been a hard sell, until Raiko was so desperate for re-election he'd started throwing money at anything that might make him more popular than the things abandoned in that culvert.

He clutched the notice, stepping back out to the secretarial pool, and tracing the notice's trial. “Rei, um, hi,” he asked, approaching her desk. “Do you have a second?”

“Shore do'” he said, in his distinctive Foggy Swamp lilt. His eyes were already on the paper. “Whatcha need?”

“Just curious... where'd the funds for the walking bridge project go?”

“Ah... don't you worry none. That's just a delay a few months. Seems the stadium repair is still behin' schedule, an' they wanna get that done 'fore the wedding. Seems they're pullin' out all the stops”

Kadu tried not to twitch. No need to ask what wedding Rei meant. “Who made that decision, may I ask?”

 

 

\---

 

 

Korra let her mom out of the embrace, and they sat together on the moose-elkskin rug. While most of the public areas of the Southern embassy were furnished in Republic City style, the living areas—where her parents stayed when they visited the city—were as much like home as they could be. Not built of ice, of course, but still, as Southern as they could make it. “Did you have something you wanted to talk about?” Mom asked. “How's Asami. Are you two getting excited?”

Korra smirked. “Yes, she's fine and wants me to invite you to dinner. And of course! Well... maybe more impatient than excited...”

Mom chuckled. “You think you're impatient now, you should come to the wedding planning meetings sometime.”

Korra winced, raising her hands like she usually did when the question came up. “I still think we should elope, like a certain firebender did.”

Mom swatted her arm playfully. “Bolin and Opal still haven't forgiven him for that. Besides, their wedding was lovely.”

“They got married during the Spirits Festival, all the loveliness was already there! This... never mind,” Korra sighed. “I _am_ here to talk about the wedding, but I... well...” she bit her lip. How to say this... “it's about Asami.”

A look of concern showed over her mother's face, and Korra waved her off at once. “She's fine, she's fine, but... this was supposed to be a surprise, but...  she's been reading about Water Tribe marriage customs. Including the part about singing our vows.”

Mom's eyes went wide, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh, gosh! That's so sweet of her! Are you saying she wants to do it?”

Korra rubbed the back of her neck. “Well... yeah, but the thing is...”

Mom's hands fell. “She can't sing.”

“Oh, mom, she's _terrible_. Took me six years to finally discover something she's bad at...”

Senna touched Korra's leg and shoulder, smiling at her. “She's not under any obligation to sing.”

“I know! I tried to tell her that, even before I heard her, but... ugh, she's afraid if we don't do it, later on I'll be sad that we didn't.”

“Aww... that's kinda sweet, in a neurotic sort of way.”

Korra sighed wistfully, swooning against her mother. “I know. She's just so thoughtful and adorable. How can I take that away from her?”

“Well... perhaps we can give her singing lessons. In the proper tribal style.”

“Mom... she's totally tone deaf. It's honestly shocking. It's like... somebody strangling an otter penguin.”

“We have time to see what can be done!” Mom reassured her. “Send her to me tomorrow. I'll see what I can do.”

“You're sure? Don't be promising what you can't deliver.”

She laughed. “I'm only promising to try. She'll need to learn the song of our family, anyway.”

Korra took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Good. Thanks.”

“Of course, sweetie,” Senna said, hugging her shoulderways. “Now! Speaking of singing! Tell me how the song and dance number went!”

Korra grinned.

 

 

\---

 

 

Kya slammed the phone down, stalking away from it. The stadium wouldn't be ready to hold the wedding? There weren't any other public venues large enough to house the massive wedding party that was already preparing to descend on Republic City. They couldn't all fit on Air Temple Island...

She growled, aggravated at the whole situation, that she had somehow been recruited as the government liason for the wedding plans, that her mother was in town and for some reason that was throwing Kya's aura right the heck off, that Jinora was clearly avoiding her, and she was dealing with all of this on an island that had no alcohol on it. None!

Did Dad really have to hold so close to _all_ Air Nomad traditions? Seriously. Ugh.

“Hey, Sis,” Bumi said, making her leap straight out of her skin.

“Aaah! Bumi! When did you get so damned quiet?”

Bumi shrugged. “Years of top-secret stealth missions behind enemy lines.”

She crossed her arms. “You never went on top-secret stealth missions, Bumi.”

“Not that you know of. Huh.” He grinned, gave her a nod neither conceding or continuing the point. “What's wrong though? You look glum.”

“And you look surprisingly energetic for the person organizing the wedding planning. How's that even work? The guy not interested in romance for himself, in charge of organizing the most important wedding in decades?”

Bumi raised a solemn finger. “I'll have you know, I've officiated many diverse weddings in my day. Besides, I'm not planning the ceremony, I'm riding herd on all the people who are.”

“Yeah, yeah... well, speaking of all that, apparently we have to find a new venue. Public Works threw a wrench in the stadium plan.”

Bumi frowned. “Public Works... the same guys who poo-pooed the parade?”

“Yeah... bureaucrats, I swear...”

“Hey,” Bumi said, a hand on her shoulder. “All kidding aside, sis, what's up? You seem tense and exhausted. Mom's been asking too.”

At the mention of their mother, she felt her tension and her exhaustion ratchet up. Why? “I... I dunno, Bumi. I'm just trying to keep my head above water and keep things easy for Lin... Spirits, how did I wind up here?”

“Exactly what 'here' are you referring to?”

Kya rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth. “Never mind. I just... I gotta get off this island for a while. You'll tell the girls about the stadium?”

“Sure...” he said, worry on his face as Kya stalked off.

She made it most of the way to the docks before her mother cornered her. “Hi, mom,” she smiled, and meant it, but stiffened, and meant that too. What was up with her?

“Kya,” she said, reaching up to touch her elbow—she couldn't reach her shoulder any more, with her joint pain. “Are you well?”

“Just... stressed, mom. I... I'm doing fine.”

Her mother gave her a skeptical look—this woman had been seeing through bullshit for more than ninety years. “How are things with Lin?”

“Lin's great,” Kya said in a rush. “She's doing a great job, and I'm really proud of her.” And she was! Not that Raiko would've been a tough act to follow, but the city had a lot of divisions, and tons of difficulties left over even from the Council era. Lin was tackling them with the sort of abandon that only somebody who truly didn't care about re-election could manage—and, shockingly, people appreciated her for it, too.

“Is she happy?”

Kya tittered a little. Lin? Happy? “She's... invested.” Truth be told, Kya knew the only thing that kept President Beifong sane some days, the only thing that seemed to put a smile on her face was... Kya herself. Knowing that she was the one person who could get Lin to melt, who could relax the stress of her (second) powerful and unwanted job out of her...

Mom's hands clasped hers, with more strength than their sinewy look implied. “Are you happy?”

Kya snatched her hand away. “I'm fine. Of course I'm fine.”

“Kya—”

“I've got a ferry to catch.”

Mom sighed. “I'm not sure what I did to anger you, Kya. But you know that I love you, and I'm so proud of who you are.”

Kya's jaw was clenched, but she made herself stop. “I... I'm not sure what I'm mad at, Mom. You don't deserve to bear the brunt of it, though. I... I need to meditate. A lot. Or drink.” Or get Lin to screw her brains out, but there were certain things even Kya would be embarrassed to say to her mother. “Either way, I'll be back tomorrow. We gotta sort out the wedding venue.”

“Of course,” Mom said glumly. Kya stalked away, a bare wave over her shoulder as she stomped down the dock. She got onto the ferry just as it was readying to leave, and set herself against the rail. The entire journey back to the city, she stared at the statue of her father, looming over everything.


	3. Quiet Meetings

“Stop looking over your shoulder,” Kai said, clutching Jinora's hand. “Just keep your hat over your tattoo and nobody is going to recognize you.”

She bit her lip, then looked over her shoulder. Just because she didn't see any saffron robes in the crowd didn't mean they weren't being followed. After all, _she_ _and Kai_ were in disguise, so somebody else from the island could be too. “I lied to the guards. They've probably told my father by now, and—”

“Jinora,” Kai said, pulling her to the side of the street, holding both of her hands. “You're an airbending master. The guards have no reason to suspect anything from you. Trust me, they're more concerned with what their lunch ration is going to be than how you go about your day.”

“What if somebody notices we're both off the island at the same time?”

“We _usually_ are, Jinora! And even if they put two and two together, the worst they'll think is we're canoodling somewhere.”

“That's exactly what got us into this!”

“Shh! Shh shh...” Kai pulled her into a hug, and she clutched the front of his shirt, her eyes pressed shut against his shoulder. “I'm here with you, Jin. Whatever happens.”

“I'm supposed to be studying advanced forms,” she said, shaking her head. “I'm supposed to be teaching the newer airbenders, setting a good example—”

“You _do_ set a good example!”

“Airbenders are supposed to avoid attachment! Carnal pleasures!”

“You have three siblings. Your dad certainly didn't avoid it.”

Jinora pulled back, aghast.

Kai took one look at her face and snickered. “Sorry, probably not what you wanted to be thinking about.”

“No! Really not ever, Kai!”

He pulled her into a hug again. “You're an airbending master, your Tenzin's heir, but you're your own woman, too. I mean, look at Korra and Asami! Remember their big fight? All the problems that caused? They're still big heroes. If they're allowed to be human, so are you.”

Jinora swallowed, wrapping her arms around herself. “That... doesn't mean I'm ready to be a mother, too.”

Kai's put his knuckles under her chin, tilting her head up, and stared into her eyes. “And you think I expected to be a dad? Whatever happens, we'll be together, okay?”

Crying, she kissed him, her fingers digging in behind his ears.

He smiled at her as they withdrew, eyes never leaving hers, in spite of the bustle of the street around them. “The clinic isn't much further. I've helped people get there. They should be able to help us... figure out where we are, at least. Okay?”

Jinora took a breath. As much as she'd been breaking out into cold sweats, as much as her heart was pounding since she'd realized how late her cycle was, Kai had been _there_ for her. What would she have done if he wasn't? “Okay.”

Kai smiled at her, took her hand, and lead her through the crowd.

Jinora looked over her shoulder.

 

\---

 

“Asami,” Senna greeted with a smile and a hug. Asami stooped to hug her properly, then sat with Senna on the fur. At first she had her legs kicked to the side, but then she noticed Senna's posture and did her best to emulate it. “You can sit however is comfortable, you know.” 

“I know,” she said, politely. “I just... wish to honor your culture, as best I can. I was never well connected to my Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom backgrounds... Republic City as been forging its own identity, after all—but Korra is all Water Tribe, Avatar or no. Plus... I'm not just gonna be her wife, I'm gonna be your and Tonraq's daughter-in-law... I need to be able to fill that role.”

Senna reached onto the short side table for tea. “You are very concerned with that, aren't you? Filling roles? Expectations.”

Asami parted her lips, contemplating as Senna sipped. It's something Senna had noticed about her daughter's fiancé some time ago.

“I... suppose that is a strategy of mine,” Asami frowned. “Sometimes, it helps me get in other people's head a little. If I can anticipate what they'll want or need, I can prepare for it.”

“And it probably disarms a lot of people who gopher-pigeonhole you into one role,” Senna grinned. “You're very adaptable, and it's served you well. And Tonraq and I are touched that you're putting so much effort into honoring our culture.”

“What do you mean,” Asami asked, eyes narrowing. "What did Korra tell you?”

Senna smiled. “Asami... I understand you want to make the day special and memorable. But it's your day, too, Asami. You don't need to do anything you're uncomfortable with.”

"She told you about the singing!"

"And I'm touched beyond words that you'd consider it! But... are you going to be comfortable doing it?"

“Of course,” Asami said, forcing herself out of a pout. “Senna... I _love_ you and Tonraq. The way you've accepted me into your family... I _want_ to do this for you.”

Senna bit her lip. “The song is... difficult. And our way of singing for tribal rituals, it's not the same style of singing you hear on the radio. It could take quite a bit of practice to pick it up, and you won't have much use for it after. Are your sure your time wouldn't be better spent on something else?”

Asami crossed her arms. “Senna... why are you trying to talk me out of this?”

“I'm...” Senna caught her objection, and chuckled. “I appreciate how little time you have for nonsense.” She rose, moving to a drawer and pulling out the paper she prepared. “Here's the first page of the song.”

“ _First_ page?”

Senna nodded. “Since Tonraq is the chief, and Korra is at least technically next in line, we'd technically have to give a mention to every individual tribe. Probably it would add, oh, a good half hour, forty five minutes to the wedding.”

“Forty five minutes?”

Senna nodded. “And you'd have to memorize it, too.”

“That sounds... onerous.”

“A good memory is something any chief—or chief's spouse—should have! Besides, the drum beat helps. A few weeks of dedicated study and trust me, you'll never forget the words.” Senna shook her head slightly, looking away. “Never. Years later, every time you hear a steady beat, you find yourself talking though them again... but then it feels wrong if you don't finish...”

“Senna?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Senna blushed a little. “Sorry. It's just... honestly not a terribly fun or rewarding tradition, all told. In fact...”

Asami rested her hand on Senna's. “In fact?”

Senna chuckled. “In fact, I was hoping that perhaps, you two skipping that whole part might set a precedent and help kill it. Tradition is well and good, but there comes a time where it needs to adapt, wouldn't you say?”

“Forty five minutes,” Asami murmured. “Well... that would make a big statement to the traditionalists that I respect your ways...”

“Asami... I love you and my daughter and you're going to be amazing wives, but... honestly, do you think there's anything that two women getting married can ever do that will please the traditionalists? It's wonderful how much you try to accommodate everybody, but that's just one group you're never going to please. All I did was marry a banished Northerner, and there's still some in my own family who resent me for it.”

Asami sighed, sadly. “I'm... sorry to hear that. And maybe you're right, but to write off a whole group like that...”

Senna put her arm around Asami's shoulder. “Hey... remember, this is _your_ wedding. Impressing people who don't want to be convinced should be the last thing on your mind.”

“But I wanted to impress you and Tonraq and Korra!”

“We're _already_ impressed!” Senna said, pinching Asami's cheek. “Please, though. Don't sing. It's dreadfully boring for everyone to sit through.”

Asami finally laughed. “Alright. But you'll have to help me find some other way to Southern-up this wedding. Maybe something we can surprise Korra with.”

Senna smiled. “A secret project with the smartest woman in the world? Sounds fun.”

 

-

 

“I've been thinking of going back to school,” Miksa said, as Kadu scooped rice into his mouth.

Struggling to reply, he made an inquisitive 'Mm?' in his throat. He coughed, held up a finger, fumbled his bowl onto the table while reaching for his drink, then managed to dribble half off it off his chin in his haste to wash the rice down.

She smiled fondly, passing him a napkin. “You remember Taki, my old friend from back home? Well she took one of those Future Indistries scholarships, and she got a job right away earning four times what she was making at the factory. I figure, if her, why not me?”

Kadu finished sorting himself out, wiping the debris from the table. “I mean, that's great if that's what you want to do. I've just never seen you show much interest in machines, and you never said you were unhappy at the animal hospital. You love working with all those critters.”

“I do, but there's only so much we can help sometimes. What do you do with an ostrich horse with one leg?”

“Um... I don't think I've heard this one.”

“I wasn't joking, Kadu.”

Her boyfriend's expression suddenly reminded her of the frog spirit who helped design the new subways.

She reached across the table, patting his hand. “I'm not offended, either.”

He plopped his mouth shut.

Miksa sighed. “Well, what _I_ was thinking of was that biomimicry engineering Asami Sato has been working on. I've seen some elaborate prosthesis out there, on veterans, injured workers, that sort of thing. You know, rumor is, that all started because years ago, Asami was worried she'd have to build Korra new legs?” Miksa crossed her hands over her chest, sighing at the ceiling. “Isn't that the sweetest thing?” 

“Sure, very sweet,” Kadu grumbled. “Too bad for those of us who can't afford to move heaven and earth for the person we love, even if we want to.”

She looked at him tartly, as he tried to dig back into his dinner. “Those inventions have improved hundreds of people's lives, so far. I don't see why it couldn't work on injured animals, too.”

“You're right, you're right,” Kadu agreed, realizing apparently that she _was_ a little miffed, and looking her in the eye. “And you're very sweet, too. Wanting to help all those little helpless creatures that can't help but need... um... help.”

She snickered, scooting over to pat his cheek. “You're my favorite helpless creature, Kadu. I hope you know that.”

He gave a weak, nervous laugh. “I'm not... I mean I'm not helpless. I made dinner!”

She glanced down, at the parts of dinner that had made it to the floor, and his lap. “Yes, you did. And I'm sure you'll clean up the mess, too. That _is_ what you do far a living, isn't it?”

“Um. Yeah, I guess that's one way of looking at it...”

Miksa set her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands. “Speaking of bureaucratic messes... I read something in the paper about the stadium being delayed again?”

Kadu grimaced, and pushed his food back. “Yeah. It was taking too many city resources. It'll still get finished in time for the next pro bending season.”

“But not for the wedding?”

“The wedding! The WEDDING!” He leaned his head back. “Honestly, is that all anyone can talk about?”

Miksa would happily talk about a different wedding, if Kadu would get around to suggesting one. Did he _really_ think she was more interested in the Avatar's romantic life than theirs? “Well, maybe _some_ of us enjoy a little romance in our lives?”

Kadu just groaned. “Well, maybe it's not as exciting as whether or not two people we've never met have the perfect unattainable wedding or not, but construction on the pedestrian bridge should be starting soon.”

She straightened. “It will? Finally? You... pulled some strings?”

“I... that would be an improper use of my authority,” he said, frowning and twining his fingers together. “Maybe I... shoved a few strings out of the way a little, but that's totally different. I had the city's best interests in heart, but I thought you might... might maybe appreciate it?”

Miksa titled her mouth, not quite a smile, not quite a frown. He could be the most confounding man, sometimes!

Of course, the only person who seemed more exasperated by Kadu was Kadu himself. Oddly enough, it gave them something to bond over.

“How about you just let me _pretend_ it was a romantic gesture, okay?” she suggested.

“Uh...” he swallowed, smiled at her, then thought better of it and wound up stuck between expressions. “...sure? I mean, yeah. I mean, I told you because I thought it might make you happy. That's... that's a romantic thing, right? Even if I didn't...”

“Shh,” Miksa said, tapping her own lips. “Stop digging.”

He nodded.

 

\---

 

“Ow!” Korra objected as another pin pricked her. “Are you sure you're a dressmaker, and not an acupuncturist?”

“Apologies, Avatar Korra,” he said, a dozen pins pressed between his lips, eyes not leaving the material.

“Stop fidgeting!” Opal teased, as the dressmaker moved behind Korra. “I know you hate to stand still...”

“I can stand still. I can stand still longer than anyone.”

“Sleeping doesn't count. Neither does meditating into the Spirit World.”

Korra pouted. Opal just laughed.

“Korra,” Suyin asked, flipping through a style book. “Have you decided yet, how much Water Tribe you want your dress to display, versus how much Republic City?”

Korra shrugged, and got another pin in her shoulder for it. “Ahh!” She hissed, then sighed. “I haven't really thought about it, Su. I want it to match whatever Asami is wearing, though, and I'm not sure she'd like to wear tribal furs.” Not outside the bedroom at least...

Opal snickered, looking at Korra's face, turning the thought into a full-on flush. “Shut up,” Korra hissed. Which only made Opal laugh more.

“Probably something demure, but not chaste...” Suyin was musing. “You seem to prefer a high neckline, but do you have any objection to showing off your back? I feel like showing off some of your muscle will offset the softening look of the dress. Accentuate both aspects of your natural beauty.”

“Uh... I guess that's fine?” Accentuate her as much as they wanted, it wouldn't matter when she was standing next to the most beautiful woman in the world. “Will I get to see Asami's back, too?”

Suyin raised an eyebrow at her. “That would be telling.”

Korra stuck out her tongue.

“I've never seen you in white,” Opal said. “Well, other than a tank top. You look great in blue of course, but it might be special to see you in a Republic City style white gown.”

“Sure, okay,” Korra said. She knew Asami liked her in dresses, and wanted this to be special. “I want it to be mobile, though.” The dressmaker stabbed her in the side. “OW! Watch it!”

He popped up into her face. “You're not going to be _fighting_ in this dress!?”

Korra's eyes hardened, her voice dark. “Anyone who made me fight on my wedding day would earn a special kind of payback... but no. I do want to dance with her a lot, though, at the reception!”

The dressmaker relaxed, and went back to work.

“I'm surprised your mother isn't here,” Suyin said. “I'm flattered she trusts me with this task, but I'd think she'd want to be involved.”

“She's handling another matter,” Korra said truthfully, conveniently not mentioning that Suyin's... strong opinions on every aspect of the wedding had been driving everyone else crazy, so delegating one task entirely to her let everyone else plan things in peace. She meant well but was perhaps a little too used to being in charge. “What about my arms, can we cover my arms?”

“Ooh, how about some long gloves?” Opal suggested.

“Covering my hands too?” Korra pondered. “That could help me look more… elegant, I guess.”  

“I can fit you for those too,” the dressmaker said.

“I'll give you some armbands to measure.”

The dressmaker frowned. “Why not let me measure your arms?”

Korra didn't particularly like talking about how little she liked her arms being touched. “Can we chalk this up to Avatar mystique and not argue about it?”

He tilted his head. “Of course, Avatar Korra.”

“Well,” Opal ventured, sensing awkwardness, “that settles gloves. What about shoes?”

“Heels,” Korra said immediately.

Suyin snickered. “They shouldn't be visible under your dress, and you'll be on your feet a lot.”

“You want to be taller than Asami for a day?” Opal asked.

Korra shook her head. “Nope. I want to be exactly the same height. This is a marriage of equals.”

Opal pressed her hands to her chest. “Awwww!”

“A beautiful sentiment,” Suyin said. “But you _are_ the Avatar...”

Korra shot her a glare. Maybe she and Bataar were happy with their marriage dynamic, but brilliant mind aside, Bataar was no Asami. “And she's Asami Sato. It's gonna be hard work for the rest of my life to deserve her. A day wearing heels is a good start, don't you think?”

“Awwwww!” Opal repeated, jumping from foot to foot.

Suyin's look softened. “You're right. Sorry. I... honestly, as a woman who's been married for a couple of decades, I have to admit I'm a little jealous of you two. I love my husband, but the way you look at each other...”

Opal's arms were squeezed so close to herself they could barely move. She had to sit down.

Korra snickered. “Are you okay?”

She took a second, catching her breath as her mother shook her head fondly. “Yeah, yeah. I just... you two are so cute!”

Korra smirked. “I swear, I'm not sure who's more weirdly-invested in me and Asami's relationship: you, Ikki, or Jinora. Ikki at least makes sense.”

“So does Jinora, that little romantic!” Opal said. “She's a smart girl, after all.”

 

\---

 

“I can't believe I was so stupid,” Jinora said beside him as they sat, waiting.

Kai shook his head immediately, putting a calming hand on her leg. Which of them it was more calming to, he wasn't sure. “You're not stupid, Jinora. You're the smartest and wisest person I know! I mean, if you're stupid, what hope do the rest of us have?”

She rested her head against him. He put all his training to good use, keeping his heart still. Calming that urge in his feet, that survival instinct from his childhood that kept him alive when the world felt like it was closing in around him.

And he'd thought Air Nomad history was his hardest test.

A knock came at the door. Jinora jumped, clutching his arm. He clasped her hand. How was it he was the calm one?

…

Had he honestly just thought that? Whatever their usual dynamic was, of _course_ Jinora was the one freaking out.

“Come in,” Jinora said, her voice calm. Spirits, she was so strong.

The healer opened the door, stepping into the clinic room. “Good morning,” she smiled, looking at their clutched hand. “What seems to be the trouble?” she asked, but her face said she knew damned well.

Jinora swallowed. “I... I have some... concerns that... Well you see, I'm... My...”

“She's been feeling a little under the weather,” Kai said, meeting the healer's eyes. “Could you give her a thorough examination? We're both starting to worry, and we want to know what we're in for.”

She nodded. Subtext received. “Is there any particular area you'd like me to examine, miss?”

Jinora looked at Kai, clutching his hands, completely lost. “Um... Internally.”

The healer drew some healing water from a carafe. “Could you pull up your shirt?”

“Oh. Uh, sure...” Jinora rolled the front of her shirt up, leaving the back low.

“A little more,” the nurse said, waiting. “Would you like him to leave the room?”

“No! I mean... no.” Jinora took a deep breath, and rolled her shirt up further, revealing the tattoos rolling down her back and splitting to run along her hips. Jinora flushed, tears welling in her eyes.

The healer made no comment, but there was no way she didn't recognize the only seventeen year old airbending lady in the world. She treated her as any other patient, placing her hand covered in glowing water against Jinora's ribs.

As the healer closed her eyes and probed, Kai used his sleeve to dab Jinora's eyes. That only made her start crying in earnest.

They sat quietly, and the healer worked around Kai without asking him to move. She was clearly practiced in this sort of thing, and was keeping her face blank... except for the tightening around her jaw.

Kai kept his breathing even, terrified of the answer he already knew.

Ten thousand years later, the healer returned the water to the carafe. “Well, you're perfectly healthy,” she said, closing the lid. “I'm going to ask you a few questions. The more honest your answers, the better I can help you.”

“I'm pregnant,” Jinora choked. “Aren't I?”

A word wasn't even needed to change their lives. Just a quick, irrevocable nod. 

Kai had half expected his girlfriend to sob. Instead, she took a ragged breath. “I don't understand how... We... we're always careful.”

The healer's hand squeezed her shoulder. “I'm sure you were. Sometimes, slip-ups, accidents... these things happen. It's okay. I'm happy to tell you your options, and you've still got time to consider them.”

“...Options?”

“There's a lot to consider. I could refer you to a counselor to help you work through everything—whether you're ready to be parents, whether you're prepared to carry a pregnancy to term, or whether—”

“I know the options,” Jinora breathed, pale, turning toward Kai. Her voice was flat, still air, the silence between lightning and a thunderclap. “How long... how long do we have to decide?”


	4. Up in Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... so this is the actual chapter 4... somehow I posted chapter 5 instead... oh dear...

“Whatever happened to your arm band?” Asami asked, tracing the skin of Korra's right shoulder as they lay in bed. She kept her touch from trailing down her arm—her bicep was usually fine, but Korra was still pretty sensitive about the areas the poison had entered her.

Korra shrugged. “Same thing that happened to my wolf tails. Dropped in the ocean when I ran away from everything.” There was no bitterness in her voice, as there once may have been. A sadness, perhaps, a wistfulness for what she'd lost, but no longer any feeling like she was incomplete.

“I always wondered, why just the one? You have two arms, after all.”

“Only had one week to worry about,” Korra said.

Asami waited, and a smile started to crack across Korra's face. “You stinker, you know that doesn't answer anything!” Asami's fingers darted in, tickling Korra's exposed (and exquisite) abdomen.

Korra's lips opened in a huge grin, big and bright as the sunrise they'd both been ignoring for the past hour. She kicked and giggled, fending Asami off. “Alright! Alright!” Asami paused her assault—grudgingly—and waited.

Korra took a breath. “After I started living on the compound, I really missed my parents. They moved to live nearby, but well... nobody pays the Avatar, so certainly nobody pays her parents for just existing. They both had to keep working, so I only got to see them one day a week.”

Asami frowned. “I can't believe the White Lotus isolated you from your family like that.”

Korra ran the back of her finger along Asami's jawline. “Well, at least you've made sure that won't happen next time.”

She clasped Korra's hand. “That won't be for a long, long time. Centuries, if I can help it.”

Korra snickered. “Anyway... Mom made the armband for me, to remind me of them when they weren't there. Remember how it had dark and light triangles?” Asami nodded. “There were seven pairs. Seven days, seven nights.”

“So, it was to help you count the week?”

“Kinda,” Korra said. “It was warm and tight, like a hug, Mom said. Which was ridiculous of course since I was a big tough Avatar and didn't need hugs like that... but I never took it off, either.”

Asami bit her lip, holding back a coo. Ornery little kid Korra must've been a handful—but that was the cutest thing! “I didn't realize the pattern had so much meaning.”

“Oh, there was a little more to it, too!” Korra said, leaning up to point at her bare bicep. “The white parts, for the days, those had a dark dot on them. All but one. Mom said that dark spot was the emptiness her heart felt each day she didn't get to see me. The seventh had the dot, but it had been filled in—because that was the day we got to be together.”

“Aww!” Asami clasped her hands near her throat. “That's so sweet! I never noticed the pattern was interrupted like that.”

“I kept that one closest to me, Korra said. “So it was usually up against my body. I remember... when I'd cross my arms...” she sat up the rest of the way so she could demonstrate, “My left thumb would fall right there on it. Not that I was a sentimental child or anything...”

Asami took the opportunity to snatch Korra's pillow and bop her on the head with it. “Your family is too cute, you know that?”

Korra brought her arms up in a defensive stance, fending off Asami's fluffy assault. “You mean, our family, right? Soon enough at least?”

Asami sighed, letting the pillow fall. “The day can't get here soon enough.”

Her fiancé clearly agreed with that, scooting nearer to her and laying mostly back down. “We have a couple weeks to go yet, and though I hate to say it... we both have things we're supposed to do today.”

Asami sighed. “I know, I know. But it's chilly out and the bed is warm and you are here. And...”

“And you're rethinking that ridiculous idea of sleeping apart for a week?”

“No,” Asami lied. “I want our wedding night to be extra special. But... I'll admit the prospect of no snuggles for a week doesn't exactly fill me with joy.”

Korra brought her head close, until they could wiggle their noses against each other. “Well, the question for the moment then is clear: do we get up and start our days, or do we spend an hour or so in bed fooling around?”

Asami smirked, and pulled the sheet up to cover them both.

 

\---

 

Kya nursed her whiskey, virtually alone in the bar in the middle of the day. She was supposed to be on Air Temple Island, working with the wedding planners, or else downtown strangling some fool named Kadu who was holding up the stadium, but somehow, she'd found herself in one of her favorite Republic City dives. Just a little bit to take the edge off, she'd promised herself, several little bits ago.

What the hell was her problem? Why was she doing this to herself? She was with a woman she loved, who adored her. She was helping set up a same-sex marriage between two of the most famous women in the world—that was going to have a huge impact, possibly more than anything else she'd done her whole life.

What else _had_ she done? Was that what this was about? A misspent youth, backpacking around the world? She'd helped people, but did anyone remember her? Did she care about being remembered?

Someone sat on the stool beside her, waved the bartender over. “Look,” she started. “There's plenty of open bar, and I'm in no mood for other people.”

“Suits me,” came the reply, and Kya nearly choked.

“Lin?! What are you doing here?”

“Ordering a drink,” she answered. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.”

“No, I mean... how did you find me?”

Lin shrugged. “You want me to give up all my secrets? Kya, you've been out of sorts the last few days. I could tell something was up.”

Kya nodded. What use was there in denying it? Embarrassing as it might be. “Sure, you got me.”

Lin's drink arrived. The bartender had to have recognized her, but knew better than to ask questions. She gave him a nod, held a finger up to hold him as she knocked the drink back, then asked for another. This one, she left on the bar, clasping the top of the glass, rolling the bottom at a slight angle. She didn't look at Kya. She didn't say anything, didn't ask anything. She didn't touch her, but at the same time, she was _there_ more firmly and more loudly in Kya's mind than the entire rest of the bar.

Kya growled. “Well, go ahead!”

“Go ahead and what?” Lin asked.

“Ask me what's wrong! Get in here and tackle my prob… my probyulems. Isn't that why you're here?”

“Kya,” Lin said, turning her head toward her but her body still facing the bar, “if you wanted to talk to me, you'd be talking to me.”

“Why are you even here, then? Don't you have some Presdidenting to be doing?”

“Probably,” Lin said, sipping her whiskey. “But that's hardly my top priority.”

That took all the wind out of Kya's stewing temper. She groaned, pressing her head against the bar, then covering it with her arms. Lin's hand rested lightly on her shoulder. She moved her own hand back to clasp it, without uncovering her head.

“We can get somebody else to do all this wedding stuff,” Lin said. “I know they're not precisely your cup of—”

“Whiskey?” Kya asked, her face still against the bar. She lifted it enough to turn, shifting the hand holding Lin's to sit on the counter between them. “Are they yours?”

Lin chuckled fondly. “I'm not quite sure what you're asking there.”

“Weddings,” Kya said. “Did you want to have one?”

Lin licked her lips, setting her drink down. “Kya... I'd marry you in a heartbeat if I thought for a moment you wanted that. We've talked about it before. But I don't need it. What I _need_ is to know you're happy, and right now you're clearly not.”

Kya noticed herself smiling. Well, how 'bout that. “I'm better than I was.”

Lin smiled too. “I'm glad to hear that.”

Kya chuckled, looking at Lin's reflection in the smooth bar top. “You ever wonder how they keep these so smooth?”

“I can't say that I have,” Lin said.

“I... wait!” Kya sat straight up—a little too quickly, as she started to tip backwards off her chair. “Spirits! I had more than I thought.”

“Are you steady?” Lin asked, somehow already on her feet with a stabilizing hand on her back.

Kya laughed, loud enough to echo off the walls. She didn't _feel_ that drunk... maybe Lin just made her feel safe enough to act like it. “I had too much spirits! I didn't even mean to make that a joke. I'm pretty clever. Do you think I'm clever, Lin?”

“Yes, I do think you're clever,” Lin said. Her eyes twinkled, and Kya knew she was making fun of her a little, but she was here and that was sweet so that was okay.

“Well, I had an idea,” she said. “For where to hold the wedding. We don't need the stadium at all!”

Lin quirked an eyebrow. “No? Where else are we going to seat thousands of people?”

Kya turned, pointing violently toward the door. “On the bay!”

“Like what? On the beach? We looked into that—”

“No!” Kya interrupted, grabbing Lin's shoulders. “ _On_ the bay. We're gonna have a ton of extra waterbenders in town. What could be more Water Tribe than a wedding on the ice?”

Lin's gaping mouth became a smirk. “Alright, that _is_ pretty clever. One more drink to celebrate, then we head home?”

“Nah, don't need any more drinks,” Kya said. She wrapped Lin's head in her arms and kissed her up against the bar. “Going home with a pretty gal is celb... celebate...”

“I hope not.”

“...cele _bra_ tion enough.” 

 

\---

 

“So guys!” Bolin said excitedly. Tsu Ying had to grin at his enthusiasm. She and Mako had just gotten into town, and while she'd gotten to know Bolin fairly well over the phone and letters, his degree of...exuberance always took some getting used to. “I realized something! We're a complete Team Avatar now!”

“Well, yeah,” Korra said, chewing on a pork roll far larger than any mere mortal would've attempted to eat at once. “Have been for a while now.”

“No,” Bolin said, “I mean... Earth! Water! Air! Fire!” He pointed at himself, Korra, Opal, and Mako. Then he moved to Asami and Tsu Ying herself. “Well, not exactly Fan and Sword, but still! We're just like Aang's team!”

Tsu Ying turned to Asami. “You wanna be Fan, I can be Sword?”

“Sure,” Asami said, looking up from her rice bowl. “People always underestimate Fan.”

“Hold on there, Bo,” Opal said. “Our numbers are right, but like... are you saying Korra is Aang? Because Korra, I love you, but you're not exactly miss peaceful Air Nomad.”

“Hey! I've gotten better!”

“She _is_ more of a Toph,” Mako agreed.

“Toph?” Korra asked. She plopped another entire pork roll in her mouth, and said, “Yeah okay I'w take 'at.”  

“Aww, man!” Bolin complained. “I wanted to be Toph!”

Mako shook his head, chewing. “Sokka,” he said.

Bolin crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Are you just saying that because of my superior tactical abilities?”

Mako's chopsticks paused halfway up to his mouth. “Yeah. Yeah that's why.”

“Well,” Asami said, elbowing Mako. “We all know that Mako's position doesn't change. He's still Zuko. Tall, brooding, conflicted...”

Mako turned to her, blinking, a noodle hanging out of his mouth.

Asami snickered, and pointed to her own mouth to clue him in. “Dorky,” she added.

He turned to Tsu Ying for support, but she just shrugged. “Sorry, Fire Lord. She's got you pegged.”

“So... who does that make me?” Opal asked. “Aang?” She frowned. “I don’t think I wanna be the main hero…”

“Neither did Aang,” Asami said. Opal rolled her eyes.

Korra chuckled, adding. “Plus, you've got the sweet personality—and terrifying temper.”

Bolin hissed through his teeth. “Oooh, yeah. That she does. That she—” Opal glared at him, and he reverted to nervous chuckles and looking away.

Korra turned to her fiancé. “Let's see... well, you're beautiful, kind, caring, and the Avatar is totally smitten with you. How does Katara sound?”

Asami chuckled. “From what I've heard, she _did_ have fabulous hair in her youth.” Asami shook her head to toss hers about, for good measure. The table shared a laugh.

“Guess that makes me Suki,” Tsu Ying shrugged as the laughter subsided. “I get to be the leftover either way.”

“Hey, now,” Mako scolded. “Suki was an incredibly capable fighter.”

“Your names _do_ kinda sound the same,” Korra said. “And you both did join last.”

Tsu Ying folded her arms, turning toward her husband. “What do you think about this?”

Mako looked like a deerabbit, caught in front of a Satomobile. “Uh... how much trouble will honesty get me in?”

“Oh, just enough to get you punished—but the kind of punishment you'll enjoy by the end.”

Korra coughed rice onto the table. Opal stomped her feet under the table, clapping. “ _Definitely_ Suki. Either that or Azula, but I don't think you're that evil”

“Don't tempt her,” Mako warned, but gave Tsu Ying a wink.

Tsu Ying smiled back at him, then snapped her teeth.

More laughter. Tsu Ying had gotten more than she bargained for out of her marriage to Mako. She wasn't sure what surprised her more: how quickly his loved ones had accepted her, or how easy it was to forget how outclassed she was by the rest of the group.

Korra raised her wine glass, catching everybody's attention. “To Team Avatar!”

“Team Avatar!” the rest of them echoed back, clinking their glasses together. Tsu Ying smiled, but she also noticed something. Only four of the glasses contained wine. Asami's was water, but that made sense since she was driving. Bolin and Opal took an air bison, so that wasn't an issue—and Opal enjoyed her wines. Yet she was on water, too.

Tsu Ying's glass was still in the air, and Opal noticed her hesitation. Tsu Ying met her eyes, stifling a chuckle, and gave her the slightest tilt of her glass.

Opal blinked, then shook her head and turned to Mako. “You have a very clever wife, you realize that?”

Mako looked between the two of them. Bolin, Asami, and Korra looked equally confused. “Uh... I mean yeah, I do, but...”

Opal shook her head again, clasping Bolin's hand on top of the table. “Since I went and made this weird already... I'm so glad it worked out that all of us were in town at the same time right now. Because...” she turned to Bolin.

He grinned, and Korra gasped before he even said, “We're gonna have a kid!”

A breath of surprise, then an explosion of congratulations came from everyone at the table. Tsu Ying's smile was as earnest as everyone else's.

The quiet pang, that she was going to be an aunt before she was a mother, and had nearly a decade on Opal, that she kept to herself.

 

\---  
  


 

“Mister Kadu?” a voice asked from his office door. “A moment of your time?”

Kadu looked up from his desk, and narrowed his eyes. “Do you have an appointment?”

“Can't say that I do,” the man said, stepping more into view. He wore a trench coat, and was holding a small notepad at ready. “I'm Vin, Republic City Gazette. I can go through the trouble of setting one up—and believe me, I will—but that takes a lot more hassle and ruffles a lot more feathers.”

A reporter. Wonderful. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Oh, just some background information. It won't take long.”

Kadu grunted, but gestured Vin to have a seat. “Let's not waste time then. How can the Bureau of Public Works help you?”

He set his pencil against his paper, looking Kadu in the eye. “I understand that the stadium's retrofitting has gone over schedule?”

Kadu leaned back in his chair. “True—we only have so much resources to allocate to the entire city—”

“Construction crews are at capacity in new downtown,” Vin interrupted. “What other projects are drawing attention away from the stadium?”

He grit his teeth. “Transportation, for one. The city sees promise in the new underground railway system, but taking it to existing parts of the city is very challenging. Moreover, the districts of the city were laid out to service the old location of downtown, where the spirit portal is now. The entire center of gravity for the town is shifting, and that means infrastructure, traffic patterns... none of it is where it needed to be. We're not just building a new business center, we have to retrofit the whole city around it, too! And we're really supposed to focus on the stadium?”

Vin clearly wasn't writing down every word he said, or if he was, it was in some sort of code. If that was the case, Kadu would have to look into it. If he could make his paperwork that much more efficient... “Am I to take it, then, that the stadium is a low priority to this office?”

“I didn't say that,” Kadu rushed, starting to sweat. “We know how important events there are, but the next few months are the probending off season. Barring a few odd one-off events, this is the stadium's slow season, so the impact should be minimal. You can assure your readers that it'll definitely be open for the next pro bending season.”

He started to relax. That was perfectly reasonable. He'd really dodged a lightning bolt with—

“What about the wedding between the Avatar and the CEO of Future Industries?” Vin asked. Luckily, Kadu was too shocked to scowl. “There's no other venue in the city large enough to contain—”

“Their wedding had no bearing on the decision.”

“Given everything the two of them have done for the city, don't you think it aught to be a consideration?”

“I'm not here to serve Avatar Korra and Asami Sato, I'm here to serve the citizens of Republic City!” Kadu insisted. “Spirits, if they're such great public servants as everyone says they are, they'd understand that!”

Vin blinked, and Kadu knew he'd screwed up. “Are... you saying—”

“All I'm saying is, however heroic or important any two people might be, the whole city can't stop what it's doing just so they can throw a party.”

“It's not just a party. It's a wedding.”

“Thousands of other people get married every month without needing a stadium to do it,” Kadu said, throwing up his hands. “I realize it seems like the whole world is obsessed with these two women getting married, but frankly, some of us have work to do.”

“I see,” Vin said. “So can you confirm it was this office that reallocated the resources away from the stadium?”

Kadu's mouth worked. Shit. Oh shit. “I...” It was a matter of public record. Hell, Vin probably only came here because he saw his signature on the order. “No comment.”


	5. Who We Talk To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I skipped a chapter positing initially! This chapter... may make more sense with the added material? it looks like there isn't too much that would've been hugely confusing at least...

Mako stood in the window of the Port Authority office, looked out over the harbor, and whistled. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so much activity at the docks. Most of the time, the ships coming and going between Republic City and the Fire Nation or Water Tribes were full of cargo. Republic City’s central location had turned it into a major trading hub, which made the harbor district busy even at the best of times.

This, though…

These ships weren’t carrying just cargo. Besides the hundreds of invited guests for the wedding, thousands and thousands of people were swarming the city to witness it. See the processional. Maybe even catch a glimpse of the brides.

Officially, he was simply a guest. Officially, he and his wife were simply in-field advisors for the White Lotus organization.

Off the record, Mako was the spymaster, in charge of protecting the best interest of the world as a whole and the Avatar in particular. And as thrilled as he was for his two friends, looking out over the harbor, at the flood of humanity descending into his hometown, all he saw was worry.

He was doing what he could. Agents were checking passenger manifests against watch lists of known agitators. Fire Nation isolationists, Northern conservatives, Earth Empire loyalists… but those were just the people he could think to check.  _ Anyone _ could be Red Lotus, or a paid assassin, or—

A woman stepped next to him, looked out the window, and whistled. He gave her a glance—5’10”, late twenties or early thirties, dark hair falling from a small bun to cascade down her back. Dressed in sturdy-and-expensive travel clothes that had not yet seen much travel. A camera hung around her neck, equally high-end and just as new. “That’s even more people than I thought.”

“Just get into town?” Mako asked, 90% sure of who she was. How many people would barge their way into an occupied logistical office building, just to see the view?

She nodded. “They can get us off the boats faster than we can get off the docks. The hotels here must be filled to bursting.”

“Well beyond that,” Mako said. The woman didn’t seem too concerned about her own accommodations. “Residents are renting out rooms or couches, people are camping in the Spirit Wild, in spite of what the RCPD tells them… it’s a good thing this is a warm time of year.”

The woman arched an eyebrow at him. “You are not part of the RCPD then? One look at you, I had you pegged as a cop.”

He kept his own face still. “Is that why you came to talk to me?”

“Of course. Looking for the story on the ground, you know?” she said, lifting the camera from her chest for a moment.

“And yet, you haven’t been taking any notes?” Mako said. “You don’t quite have this journalist thing figured out yet, Your Highness.”

She took a step back. “My mother sent you?”

Mako shrugged. “Nope. I’m just a guy who knows things.”

“Is that so?” Fire Princess Hotaru said, only now thinking to take his picture. “And who pays you to do that?”

“Who said anybody paid me?”

“The only people who need to know things without being paid for it are royalty,” she said, changing her flashbulb. “And I’ve met all of them.”

“Interesting, that you think royals don’t get paid,” Mako said, crossing his arms and leaning back. “How hard did the people of the Fire Nation work for you to afford that coat and that camera?”

She frowned. “That’s a judgmental sort of question.”

“It’s only judgmental if you think the answer is bad.”

“Do you make a practice of antagonizing world leaders?”

He tilted his head back. “Come to think of it, yeah, I kinda do.”

Hotaru tilted her head, looking him over again. “Who  _ are _ you.”

He didn’t know what Hotaru was here for, but if he could get her attention away from the wedding… it would be a secret little gift for Korra and Asami. “You’re the journalist. If you think I’m a story, figure me out.”

“Alright, I will!” Hotaru declared.

Mako gave her a tiny salute, then went back to watching the harbor. He grinned a full minute later when she finally stomped away.

 

 

\---

 

 

Kadu stepped into his office, flipped on the lights, then yelped and fell over.

Somebody was sitting at his desk.

The stack of papers he’d been holding continued to flutter to the floor around him, but as he pushed himself to his knees and gathered them, he got a look at who it was. His mind raced.

She didn’t have an appointment. Shouldn’t have access to his office.

But Ms. Asami Sato wasn’t the sort of person who let little niceties like that get in her way.

“Did you… uh… did you have some business?” Kadu said, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Without saying a word, Ms. Sato tossed a newspaper toward him. It slid to a stop right beside him. The headline read:   “Works says War on Wedding Waste!”

Kadu winced. “That reporter took me out of context. He—”

“I’ve dealt with reporters myself,” Ms. Sato said. “I know how they can be.”

Kadu let out a breath.

“Which is why I’ve looked into your actions pertaining to my wedding myself.”

He hissed that breath right back in, and stood. “And what did you find?”

Even sitting down, Asami Sato somehow managed to dominate his small office. Her body was still, but not at all relaxed. “Delays. Red tape. Protests. All tracing back to you.”

Oh boy. “Ms. Sato, let me explain. Every major service and event in the city runs through this office one way or another. And while it might be the most important thing to you right now, your wedding is only one of many things we have to deal with here.”

“You are aware I run one of the world’s largest companies. I’m aware of resource management and logistics.”

“Well… yes of course, I know that. But… but you don’t take care of all those things yourself, do you? For all the departments?”

She pressed her lips. “No. I’ve other things to take care of.”

Kadu didn’t make the mistake of relaxing, but Ms. Sato didn’t seem as furious as he’d feared. “Right. The rebuilding and expansion are going very well, but there’s still so much work to do. Would it be worth delaying a factory opening for a month, or, or setting back the water service for a block if that’s what it took to make the stadium ready for your wedding?”

“But that is not the decision you made.”

“I… I make a lot of decisions. That was an example to illustrate—”

“I’ll freely admit that the stadium upgrades are a quality of life improvement, not an essential service. But you delayed them in favor of other quality of life improvements.”

“Which cover a much broader portion of the population!” Kadu said, perhaps too loud. Then, he realized he’d nearly shouted at  _ Asami Sato _ , a woman who could buy his entire apartment building with petty cash and who was close friends with the President. “Like I said, we have to make those sorts of calculations all the time, and every time you do, it’s gonna make somebody mad. So yes, Ms. Sato, I prioritized other projects, and yes, I understand it is inconvenient and that is unfortunate, but I am not going to change my stance.”

She narrowed her eyes, but she somehow didn’t seem displeased. “Okay, Mr. Kadu. And as a point of fact, I did not come here to ask you to. The planning committee informed me this morning that an alternate venue has been selected.”

Kadu blinked. Where could they possibly hold that many guests, much less spectators? “Has it? I haven’t seen a permit—”

“As it happens, the only part that your office has jurisdiction over is the beaches, and we already had those permits approved. No; I am here to make sure that we’re not going to have any more problems from this office.”

Kadu straightened. “I don’t appreciate your tone.”

“My tone.”

Coming in here, acting like she could boss him around. He wasn’t her subordinate! “Ms. Sato, I have to balance the needs of everybody in the city. No matter the national background, or, or, or lifestyle—”

Ms. Sato’s knuckles went white as she clutched the armrests. “Lifestyle?”

“Yeah. I mean, I can’t let somebody like you just have her way—”

“Somebody  _ like me _ .”

“You can’t just come in here and make demands—”

Asami thundered to her feet, her palms slapping against his desk. Kadu recoiled, stumbled over the newspaper, and gasped on his way to the floor. 

Ms. Sato was not deterred. “Don’t you  _ dare _ talk about my lifestyle like it’s any less deserving than anybody else in the city! After everything we’ve done, to think you’d get hung up on that…”

“Ms. Sato! I didn’t m—”

“NOT. Another. Word.” She hissed.

Kadu swallowed.

“I am going to leave this office,” she breathed, barely above a whisper, “and I don’t want to see or hear your name ever. Again. Nod if you understand.”

Kadu nodded frantically, not daring to take his eyes off of hers.

She gave him a look that brought winter to the room, then straightened, circled the desk, and left.

Kadu leaned his head back against the floor, the biggest foot-in-mouth imbecile on the planet. 

  
  


\---

 

 

When Kai asked, “May I meditate with you?” Jinora nearly shrieked. While she hadn’t been successful in meditating yet today, she had at least managed to distract herself from the world around her. So much for that.

“Of course,” she managed with some serenity, taking a quick glance around them. They were alone in one of the more remote meditation areas, overlooking the bay. Even so, a trainee or acolyte or  _ sibling _ could wander by at any time.

Kai folded his legs, sitting. “I ran into Bumi. He said Tenzin and the elders are still deliberating, officially, but less about whether to give me my tattoos, and more about how long after the wedding to schedule a big ceremony.”

“I’m glad for you,” Jinora said quietly. She’d been part of those deliberations too, but she took her role seriously. She took everything seriously, always tried to do the right things, the right way…

“I, um…” he cleared his throat. “I also talked to Bumi about... something else. Privately.”

“You  _ what _ ?!”

“I had to talk to  _ some _ body!” he pleaded, distantly, beneath the sound of her heart pounding. “I swore him to secrecy. His only condition was that I swear never to tell anyone—except you—that I told him a secret. Your uncle is kinda weird.”

“You can’t just be telling people in my family!”

“Well I don’t exactly have family of my own to tell, do I? Bolin can’t keep quiet worth a damn, who knows where Mako is half the time. Bumi’s lived a life and seen a lot. And he promised to stay quiet.”

“You… you still should’ve asked me first.”

Kai sighed. “I know. The opportunity presented itself, and… Jin, this is huge. We still haven’t talked about it yet.”

“I… I’m not sure I’m ready.”

Kai laughed at that. “Neither of us are. Nevertheless…”

Jinora bit her lip, making sure again that they were alone. Even so, she whispered, “What did he say?”

“We… mostly talked about how I’m feeling. It’s just… obviously, this is harder on you than it is on me, whatever happens, I’m not going to pretend it isn’t. But… I feel like you’re going to want my opinion. At the end of the day I can’t make you do anything, you’re the one who’s…”

Jinora nodded, uncrossing her legs so she could curl them up in front of her. “I do. This is… we’re in this together. Right?”

Kai opened his mouth, but smiled instead of speaking. He nodded.

They shared a moment, looking out over the waves. It really was a peaceful day, from here. And unexpected as this was, scary as this was, Kai was still here. At the risk of everything he’d worked toward for four years.

“It’s just… I don’t want you to feel pressured,” Kai said. “If you want one thing, but I told you I wanted another… I don’t want to do that to you.”

“But… you get a say in this!”

“I don’t want to put more pressure on you!”

“Making the decision by myself  _ is _ more pressure!” She heard her voice crack, felt his arm on her back.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m sorry.”

She took his free hand. She kissed it. Then she nestled it against her face. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“Nothing?” He chuckled, glancing at her belly.

“I had my part in that too,” she said, blushing.

He leaned over, and kissed her above the ear.

“We’ve gotta tell your family before the deliberations end,” Kai said.

“Are you sure? They can’t revoke mastery, once it’s been granted.”

“I’m sure,” Kai said, staring at the horizon. “What kind of airbending master would I be, if I ran away from consequences like that?”

“Oh, a bit like my grandfather, from what I hear.”

Kai chuckles. “That would be pretty good company.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “We need to decide what we’re going to do before we tell Mom and Dad.”

“You don’t want their advice?”

“I… don’t want this to be their decision.”

Kai nodded, his head leaning against hers, too. “Okay.”

Jinora closed her eyes. “I love you,” she said.

“Well, good. That’ll make this easier.”

Jinora snorted. “Kai!”

He wrapped his arms around her. “I love you too.”

They sat there a long while together. They didn’t meditate, exactly, but for those long moments, they managed not to think about the world. Just each other.

That was enough.

 

 

\---

 

Korra had dinner ready and was wearing her loosest, frumpiest—and most easily discarded—robe when Asami finally got home. “Last night together for a week! I’ve got all your favorites. Seaweed noo—”

Asami wasted no time entering the kitchen and kissing her up against the cabinets. Korra had anticipated this possibility—that’s what the robe was for, after all—but she could tell there was something behind this. Asami’s intensity, her tension. “Tough day?”

Asami didn’t respond, verbally, but she did reach into Korra’s robe. “I want to prove how beautiful our love is.”

Korra grabbed her arm. “Asami. What’s wrong?”

“I… it’s nothing. I don’t want to—”

“Asami.”

“It’ll just make you mad!” 

“Well, if you’re mad, I wanna be mad too.” 

Asami sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had a run in with that Kadu bastard at Works. Seems he doesn’t approve of our  _ lifestyle _ .”

“Ugh,” Korra sneered. “Asami, I’m sorry. People still hurl that crap at me sometimes too.” She rubbed Asami’s forearms, giving her a smile. “You shouldn’t let them get under your skin.”

“I know! I know. It’s just so… small, and petty, and… and if the two of us still have to deal with it, can you imagine what people who aren’t rich and famous heroes have to put up with?”

Korra shook her head. “How’d you happen to ‘run into’ this guy, anyway?”

“Well… it was rather likely to happen when I decided to wait for him in his office.”

Korra snorted.

“I know… that sounds like a much more  _ you _ thing to do.”

Now, there was a thought… For later, though. “Well, the big bad bureaucrat can’t get you now. And like I was saying, this is our last evening together for a week…”

Asami pouted. “I  _ know _ ! Ugh, today is the worst.”

Korra snagged a lock of Asami’s hair. “Tonight doesn’t have to be,” she said, then gave the hair a quick bite.

The food went cold.  


	6. Denied

Kadu was already four glasses into his cheap sake when a knock came on his door. Or at least, until he realized somebody was knocking—it could’ve been a while. “Kadu?” Miksa called through.

He could pretend to be gone. Or dead. Perhaps that would be for the best. He didn’t think he could handle her disappointment, not today.

The lock rustled. The door opened. Their eyes met.

“I… found your extra key.” she said.

Kadu closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “How’d you know where it was?”

“I looked. You really shouldn’t leave your spare on the door frame, it’s the most obvious place.”

“Maybe I should get a floor mat to hide it under.”

“That’s actually worse.” She closed the door, moving quietly over to him. “Is there any reason you’re sitting on the floor in front of your couch, instead of on it?”

“Table is closer,” he said, utilizing the corner of said table to pour a fifth sake.

Miksa sighed, and sat on the floor beside him. “Rough day?”

He downed the sake in a quick gulp.

“Stupid question,” she muttered. “Did you get in trouble for that article?”

Kadu suppressed a whimper. “You read that?”

“I did.”

“I… the reporter took me out of context, I—”

“Kadu,” she said, plucking the glass from his hand and setting it on the table—out of reach. “You take your job seriously, and you treat people fairly. Whether or not you’re enthusiastic about two famous people getting married won’t make me love you any less.”

He rested his head on her shoulder, his eyes burning. His voice was tight when he said, “I can’t believe someone wonderful like you loves me at all.”

“Well, I do.” She wrapped an arm behind him. “When you let me.”

“And you don’t care what you read in the papers?”

“Well, I’m not accustomed to my boyfriend _being_ in the papers, but… I think I know you better than some random reporters.”

Kadu cleared his throat, surprised he hadn’t started full-on crying yet. He wasn’t a strong man, but he was usually able to keep tears back long enough to get somewhere private, to hide when he was hurting.

There was no hiding now.

“I… there may be more…”

“Did something happen today?”

Kadu nodded. “My stupid…” he shook his head. “I said something, and I didn’t think I was saying it, I thought we were talking about something else, and now I hurt somebody really important, and…

“Shh, shh…” Miksa said, rocking him gently. “Let it out.”

He shook his head. Still no tears, not while she could see…

“You know, there’s no other animal out there that pretends it isn’t hurt when it’s among friends.”

“There’s no other animal out there with bureaucracy or newspapers, either.”

“No wonder I like animals so much,” Miksa joked. “Seems like they’re ahead of the game.”

Normally, her teasing put him at ease. But normally, he hadn’t made one of the most powerful people in the world think he hated her.

“Kadu… why don’t you take tomorrow off.”

“I can’t. There’s too much—”

“How much will you actually get done, in a state like this?”

“I need to be there to explain, if… if she complains, if anything… Miksa, I…”

“Hmm?”

“Hell, I didn’t say ‘I love you’ back yet, did I?”

“What?”

“You said you love me, earlier, and I said I didn’t deserve it, but I didn’t say I love you too, and maybe I shouldn’t because somehow I’m sure I’ll screw it up, but I need you… I need you to know how much you mean to me.”

“How much I mean? Did you try writing it out? On a spreadsheet?”

“No, I… no.” Kadu smiled. “There are far too many reasons to calculate. And if I could truly see with all the numbers tabulated how deeply in your debt I am, I’d realize just how deep that debt is and then where would I be?”

“...I… think I know what you’re getting at, but that was pretty hard to parse.” 

He took a breath, shook all the loose words out of his head. “You… have done more for me than even I could keep track of, much less repay. You mean the world to me.” 

Miksa blushed, and Kadu realized he’d taken both of her hands. They were close, and open, and…

Was this the moment?

He could grab the ring, it was just in the other room, and—

And what, leave her there? Sitting? He could tell her he had to go get something, but he’d have to get her to stand so he could get down on his knee and then—

“Well,” Miksa said, as he let the silence go on far too long. “I know you are a kind, dependable man. And you’re cute—sometimes even in ways you intend to be.”

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

“Maybe, to put it in your bureaucratic language… your merits far outweigh your costs. But still… it’s nice to know I’m not taken for granted.”

Kadu sighed, knowing the moment had passed. “Never. Could I kiss you now?”

Miksa chuckled. “Sure.” 

Today hadn’t been all bad.

 

\---

 

Asami hissed as the dressmaker brushed against the bandage on her arm. Again.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Su asked, looking at her skeptically. “You don’t want a healer?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t _move_!” the dressmaker squealed. “Do you know how much your hair weighs? Every time you move your head, everything else shifts too, and—”

“Okay, okay!” Asami said, actually thankful for the annoyance to distract her from her throbbing arm. “And as for that, yeah I’m fine, Su. It’ll be healed up just in time for the wedding.”

“You… could just go to a waterbender to have it healed.”

Asami smirked. “Are you kidding? A waterbender did this to me. I will, though, need to make sure the dress doesn’t rub against the area.”

“Yes, of course,” the dressmaker said. “This is just for the final touches. Your body is a dressmaker’s _dream_ , I could stitch something for your proportion in my sleep. Your fiancé, though! Let me tell you, a beautiful woman, yes, but I’m not used to making a dress to handle that much muscle.”

“It _does_ take a bit of getting used to,” Asami admitted, thinking of the night before. Korra had done a very good job of distracting her from her confrontation with that horrible little man at Public Works. She was still considering getting him removed—that sort of hate couldn’t be allowed in government, and most people wouldn’t be able to fight back like she could—but she had so much on her plate right now… after the wedding. As a gift to herself, perhaps.

“I’m sure the dress will look marvelous,” Suyin said. “I was more concerned about your hair. There are so many options we could explore with—”

“With the mostly open back on your dress,” the dressmaker put in, “you _can’t_ cover it! Your hair is beautiful every day but this dress—”

“I won’t distract from your dress!” Asami growled. Seriously, the man should wear it himself for how excited he was getting. “I was thinking, mostly off to one side? Where it definitely won’t touch my right arm?”

“Does it hurt that badly?” Suyin glanced at the bandage again, curiosity screaming in her eyes.

“Only when something touches it,” Asami said, not taking the bait. Suyin was a gossip, and fun to tease besides. “Besides, I know my neck drives Korra wild.”

Su smirked. “You are an evil woman after my own heart… I happened to know that Bataar was a big fan of my legs. I made sure my dress let me show them off precisely as much and as often as I wanted to—I got him so wound up. Between the wedding and the after party, it was hours and hours of leg flashes until I thought he’d explode.”

Only fear of the dressmaker’s needle kept Asami from laughing with her. “How am I not surprised?”

“He actually pretended to ‘lose’ his glasses for the last hour. Wound up dancing with his own aunt for three minutes without realizing it wasn’t me. She never has come to visit, since…”

“Well, I don’t think I want to scare any of Korra’s family away. Not even her cousins, strange as they are. It’s still more family than I have to offer.” 

“Family is what—and who—you make of it,” Su said. 

“Easy to say for somebody with plenty of it,” Asami grumbled.

Su blinked at her. 

“That… sounded more bitter than I wanted it to.” 

“It’s okay,” Su said, stepping around the dressmaker to stand more in Asami’s line-of-sight. “So many people who would be sitting on your side are friends of hers, too. You don’t have any cousins, aunts, grandparents?” 

“No,” Asami said, holding her head still. “None I ever talked to. The only ones I’m aware of are those that have tried to hit me up for money or who came out of nowhere to claim part of Dad’s estate…”

“So not real family, whatever blood may say,” Suyin concluded, tapping her chin. “Have you given any thought as to who you want to walk you down the aisle?”

“I… already feel so close to Korra’s parents, I’d almost want Tonraq to do it, but…” 

Su nodded. “Tenzin, maybe?” 

“Shrug,” Asami said.

Su quirked an eyebrow. Asami tilted her eyes down at the industrious dressmaker, and Su snickered. 

“Tenzin is wonderful,” Asami said, “but I don’t feel like I have that sort of relationship with him. He’d almost make more sense to walk Korra down the aisle and let me have Tonraq, but I couldn’t take that away from Tonraq, and… how are we even doing that, logistically? Two aisles?” 

“You’ll come in from opposite sides at the same time,” Su said, offhandedly. “Forget father figures for a moment. Is there anybody else in your life you think would be a good fit for the duty?” 

Asami straightened as a name struck her—then winced as a pin stuck her. “Ow! How close of tolerances do you need for these measurements, anyway?! You’re making a dress, not an engine!” 

The dressmaker gave her a withering look. “And your ability to make engines tells you how to make a proper dress?” 

She stopped herself from getting stubborn—he had a point. “No, it doesn’t. I don’t think I’m bleeding, so… sorry.” 

“Mnf,” the dressmaker said. 

Su chuckled, watching the whole scene. “You had an idea?” 

“I did. And for the first time in this whole damned wedding planning process, it’s even a simple one.” 

 

\---

 

Katara faced into the wind. The sea breeze that locals would consider cool made her hair loops flutter, the last bit of style she’d maintained from her youth. 

Across the bay, the island her son and grandchildren lived on sat serene, far different from the barren crag it had been when the city was first established. It couldn’t have been far from here, where Aang had pointed it out to her, excitedly talking about the temple they would build there, a central, public place for Air Nomad culture to re-establish itself… 

“Mom?” Kya asked.

“They’ve really built something remarkable here,” Katara said, gently stepping out of her memories. 

“Do you mean the city, or the island?” Kya asked, a hand on her hip. “For that matter, who’s ‘they’?” 

Katara chuckled. “Never mind.” Years before, she might have thoroughly explained what she was thinking… but she’d long ago learned when certain topics weren’t worth the words. Some sentiments were better off brief. 

“Mnf.” Kya blew a strand of hair out of her face, but didn’t pursue it. At least she didn’t seem as mad as she had been recently, but Katara knew her daughter’s moods. She was normally so carefree, but she’d been carrying this tension for days. “Well, why don’t we have a look at the bay, here.” 

“Right beside the arena,” Katara observed. “I know that sport means a lot to Korra, it’s nice it will still be nearby.” 

“That’s a bonus,” Kya admitted. “Same thing with the fact that it’ll be facing Air Temple Island too. This inlet is narrow enough we can freeze it side-to-side for stability, and we won’t be disrupting any shipping.”

“There’s a reason for that,” Katara said, peering down at the waves, their crashing made gentle by the distance. “There’s no easy way down there. As much as the girls might enjoy rappelling down a cliff. I doubt their dresses are designed for it.”

“Don’t give them the idea,” Kya muttered. “But the cliffs are also a benefit in disguise. If we use earthbenders to shuttle people up and down, that makes sure that only the invited guests get to be out on the ice with us. And there’s plenty of cliff space for spectators to watch without being close enough to disrupt anything.”  

“Excellent thinking,” Katara complimented. Organizing this sort of big event was far from Kya’s comfort zone, but she was tackling it well. 

Kya just shrugged. “Want me to help you down there, or do you have it?” 

“I think I can manage,” Katara said, then stepped off the cliff. 

Kya yelped, reaching after her. Katara allowed herself a smirk as she bent a column of water up to meet her, then slowed and guided her descent. She couldn’t surf along the surface like she used to, but bending all the water off of herself once she reached the beach was simple enough. And feeling her heart pound at the fall, that feeling of living you could only get by doing something that should kill you… that was well worth the trip. 

Kya’s maneuver was more nimble, involving an ice ramp sending her sailing onto the beach, though her landing beside Katara was not precisely graceful. It only added to the consternation on Kya’s face. 

“What, you begrudge your mother a little fun?” 

“I… no. Of course not.” Katara had expected a scowl or perhaps some playful banter. Instead, Kya nodded to herself, and added, “I just would’ve appreciated the chance to dive in alongside. A little mother-daughter daredevil bonding.” 

They shared a chuckle. How long had it been since they’d last shared a real laugh? “No concerns that I’m cliff-diving in my nineties?” 

Kya shook her head. “Not at all. I wish I’d seen more of it in your forties and fifties, actually.”

Katara clasped her hands in front of her. They were getting closer to the issue. “I had other concerns back then.” 

“Dad’s airbender stuff?”  

“You kids.” 

Kya crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me that. You could’ve balanced the two, could’ve been out changing the world--”

“My mother died when I was eight.” 

Kya stopped mid word.

“I never stopped missing her. Never stopped missing her presence in my life, even as I remembered her less and less. I gave you her name, to carry it on, to honor her, but…” 

Katara cleared her throat, looking up into her daughter’s eyes. “I never wanted to leave you kids alone. The war was over, the world seemed to be getting along on its own, and I had a family to cherish. Do you think it’s wrong that that’s what I did?” 

“I…” Kya looked away. This conversation wasn’t going like she’d expected. Good. “All these amazing things, that you did as a child--”

“I fought in a war. I was fourteen and I fought in a war, that had already taken my mother and had kept my father away for years. We didn’t know if he was alive or dead… Is it so wrong, Kya, that I _never_ wanted to risk my children being parentless?” 

“It… it was your decision then?” 

“Of course. Who else do you think--” Katara paused, looking past Kya toward the statue towering over the bay. “He never really looked like that, you know.” 

Kya turned, looking with her. “It’s weird to see him without a beard.” 

“That’s the Aang the world wants to remember,” Katara agreed. “Just the boy who saved the world. I married him shortly after he let his beard grow in.”

“Was that why?” 

“Oh… it helped.” 

They laughed. Katara smiled.

“If you were to ask the little girl who traveled the world because she had hope that it could be saved, if you were to ask her what she wanted in life… A world without war, where her family could grow up safe, that would’ve been up there. Maybe I saw myself fighting for longer, but why should who I was at fourteen get to decide who I’d be decades later?”

“Are you saying you have no regrets?” 

“Are you kidding? Of course I do, I’m ninety one.” 

Kya’s eyes widened, and she barely covered her mouth before a cackle escaped. “I thought you’d deny it!” 

“Why? What’s the point. Things don’t always go the way you want in life, no use pretending otherwise. But if you ask if I’m _satisfied_ … then yes, I am. And I think that girl who discovered the boy in the iceberg would be satisfied, too.”

“Even if you didn’t spend all those years fighting bad guys and inspiring the oppressed?” 

“There’s ways to do that besides bending, Kya,” Katara said, giving her a firm look. “That I could and did do while at home. And that I found to be way more effective than the Painted Lady routine. Which is why I kept up working behind the scenes even after you all grew up.” 

“But... aren’t you afraid you might have lost something along the way? Changed who you are?” 

“No. I was content. But, we’re not talking about me anymore, are we?” 

Kya’s dumbfounded look reminded her so much of Sokka sometimes. 

“Hug?” Katara offered. 

“Yes, please,” Kya said, leaning down into the embrace. 

“You’re an amazing woman,” Katara said, feeling the tension pooled in Kya’s shoulders, feeling it start to trickle away. “But nothing says you have to keep living it the same way forever. You decided very young that you would be the sort of person to defy convention, and I’ve always loved that about you. But if you hold to that too firmly, that’s just as much a prison as convention is, isn’t it?”

Kya made a thoughtful, tight sound in her throat, and melted a little. 

“Are you happy?” 

Kya nodded. “Mostly.” 

Katara chuckled. “Mostly is pretty good.” 

Kya gave her one last squeeze, then straightened. “Thanks, Mom. And sorry I’ve been such an ass lately, I just--”

“It’s alright, dear. I’m your mother, I’ve put up with worse.” 

“Hey!” 

Katara grinned. “Now… let’s say we talk about your bay-freezing project before the tide comes in.”

“Sure,” Kya said. “Then, once we’re done, race you back to the top of the cliff?” 

“Only if you want your butt kicked,” Katara said.

Together, they turned toward the bay. 

 

\---

 

Every set of footsteps approaching Kadu’s door made him tense. 

Between coworker’s clear discomfort delivering things to his office, two supervisors coming in to chew him out, and no less than six reporters trying to land an interview, he felt less at work and more under attack. Forms piled up to be reviewed, but even the simplest ones were beyond him right now--Miksa had been right about how productive he’d be. 

That wasn’t even the worst of it, though. Having his name dragged through the mud like that, people thinking he was pushing back against the wedding because it was two women… that was mortifying. 

But seeing the crowd outside that _agreed_ with what they thought he thought… 

He had to do something. But who would even believe him if he tried to set the record straight? Especially if Asami Sato talked to the media…

A knock came at his door. He whimpered, “No interviews.”

“It’s, um… not an interview,” said Yana, one of the clerks. “It’s the, uh... President.” 

President? 

A rattling sound came from his table. Kadu found it was the pen in his trembling hand. President Beifong was here?! He was about to be fired, fined, and buried in an unmarked grave. “O-okay,” he managed. 

The door opened, and--

“Good afternoon!” ex-President Raiko said, barreling in with a big smile. His hair had gotten darker in the two years since leaving office, unnaturally dark, and while his suit was well-tailored, it looked thicker in the middle than Kadu remembered. He reached his hand over Kadu’s desk, grabbing Kadu’s to shake. “The man of the hour, finally standing up against all this business. That took guts, sir. Republic City needs more men like you.”

Kadu blew out his cheeks. He knew his eyes were bulging but he was well past pretending he had any dignity. “Mr. Raiko. I… this is my office.” 

“Yes, it is. Fantastic work you are doing. I’m sure this administration is causing you no end of trouble, but I’m sure the voters will come to their senses by the next election.”

What was happening? “I… what brings you to Public Works? Do you have an appointment?” 

“Ahh, a stickler for schedules I see! I won’t make a habit of stopping in unannounced. Traditional men like you and me know the value of doing things the way they are supposed to be done, right?” 

“Y--” 

Mr. Raiko watched him, waiting. 

Kadu closed his mouth. 

“Of course you do,” Raiko continued, taking a seat. “Well, I just thought that a dedicated public servant such as yourself should know he has support.” 

Support. 

“We’re not going to let people bully you for doing your job. You are free to exercise your beliefs, after all! That’s what this country is all about. 

Beliefs. Was he saying… 

“They are brave women, of course,” Raiko admitted, as if it were some small, trifling detail. “The city owes them a lot. But that doesn’t give them the right to dictate morality to--”

“Leave my office,” Kadu said. 

“I can’t believe it either!” Raiko replied. “Wait, did you say--”

Kadu straightened in his seat. “I represent the interests of the people of Republic City. Rich or poor, bender or not. Northern, Southern, Fire, Earth, mixed… Straight, or whatever else they like. The city belongs to all of them.” 

“Now see here. Nobody said otherwise, of course. But to let a few people decide the way things are going to be--”

“Is fine when you’re one of those people?” Kadu asked. Raiko’s face was far more flushed than when he’d come in, but Kadu kept talking. For once, if he offended the person he was talking to, he damned well didn’t care. “I don’t care _who_ you used to be, Mr. Raiko, and I don’t care how many of your ilk want me to tell other people how to live. What I _do_ care about is an unregistered political rally obstructing city premises. So you get the hell out of my office, you get those ‘supporters’ the hell away from me, and if you try to politicize this office _ever_ again I swear I will personally see that every single document you ever need will be routed to the far side of the Spirit World!” 

“You can’t threaten me!” 

When had Kadu risen to his feet? “Get out!” 

Raiko stepped forward. Towering over him. “I’ll ruin you!” 

Kadu’s fingers tightened on one of his stamps. “Do I need to call security?” 

“The media will hear of this!” 

Kadu slammed the stamp against Raiko’s forehead. 

Raiko reared back, arms flailing before him like he was trying to swat flies. “You’re through!” he shouted, pointing at Kadu like he could stab him through the air. He was stepping slowly out the door, but his eyes never left Kadu’s. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be rotting in the dankest, rat-infested bureaucratic backwater tha-aaah!” 

He tripped. 

Or rather, somebody tripped him. 

That somebody stepped out of the crowd of hushed clerks and bureaucrats who had gathered around Kadu’s door, then bent over to read the word stamped on Raiko’s forehead. 

“‘Denied,’” Avatar Korra said. “That’s a good look for you. Consider making it permanent. Tattoos are a big part of Water Tribe culture, after all.” 

Raiko surged to his feet, stalking away without saying a word to her. 

The hustle and bustle of the office resumed, leaving Avatar Korra standing in Kadu’s office door. “Do you got a minute?” 


	7. Family Matters

Kadu stared at Avatar Korra for a long moment. He knew about her, of course--everyone did. He’d even gotten a decent look at her at the park. But that was all very different from having _the Avatar_ standing in your office, wanting to talk. The day after honking off her fiance.

“Um… well I did just tell the last individual that he couldn’t come by unannounced, so it feels a little hypocritical to tell you something different. But… yes, yes I have some time. Have a seat?”

“Promise not to stamp my forehead?” Avatar Korra said, smirking. At him. The Avatar, was smirking! At him!

Was he supposed to make a joke back? Oh spirits, what _kind_ of joke? Make fun of himself? Of his profession? Of Raiko? Or should he try to diffuse the situation. Maybe she thought she had leverage over him, the Avatar wouldn’t let a public servant abuse--

“Are you okay?” Korra asked. “You look a little… sweaty.

He exhaled, nodded. “It has… not been a typical day.”

“Ugh, I hope not,” Avatar Korra said, glancing over her shoulder as if to check if Raiko left a trail of slime as he retreated. “I thought that guy was bad when he was in power, but he’s just gotten worse. He’s just guaranteeing he’ll never have any real power again. But… I overheard what you said.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” Avatar Korra scratched the back of her neck, an uncertain sort of gesture. She was the Avatar, what did she have to be uncertain about?! “I came down here ready to be all mad, after what you said to Asami… but I’m thinking, maybe there was a misunderstanding?”

Kadu nodded frantically. “Yes, there most certainly was! My wording was perhaps unclear with Ms. Sato, I did not at any point mean to imply judgment or negative treatment based on--”

Korra held up her hands, “Hey, hey! I get it. It wasn’t a sexuality problem.”

He slumped back into his chair, relieved enough that his bones liquefied a little. “Not at all.”

Korra turned in the chair, one leg kicked off the side while she raised an arm to rest on the back. “Was there still some sort of problem, though?”

Well, his bones were stiff and solid again. “I… scarcely even want to mention it, after everything that’s happened, but… what I was _trying_ to tell her was that I couldn’t treat _wealthy_ people any differently.”

Korra whistled. “Yeah, okay. That… I love Asami to death, but that _can_ be a blind spot for her sometimes. She hates the idea of special treatment, but I don’t think she always realizes when she has been given some, you know? She assumes everybody gets treated like she does.”  

“I…” Kadu started, stopped himself talking again. It was a miracle he hadn’t made things worse again, yet. Instead of talking, he just gave Avatar Korra a nod.

She righted herself on the chair, leaning forward with her hands on her knees. “Look, the wedding is in under a week. I’ve honestly been happy to let everyone else deal with all the planning and stuff, I don’t have the time and frankly I never wanted a big, ostentatious wedding anyway, so I’m not sure… are you laughing?”

He covered his face to try to hide that he was. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Just… the whole city is working itself into mouth lather over this massive wedding, and you don’t even _want_ it?”

Avatar Korra’s entire face grinned. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But it’s bigger than me at this point.”

Kadu wheezed.

“I mean, I love Asami and she deserves to know how important she is! I’d carve her name in the moon if I could… though I think the moon and I may be related…”

“Rela... oh, right.” Thinking of history to understand the comment got his analytical feet back under him. “That might be a bit grand of a gesture though, don’t you think?”

“That’s how much I love her!”

“Plenty of people love somebody that much.”

Avatar Korra’s smile faded. It was her turn to get more thoughtful. “I… do you have somebody like that, Kadu?”

His little smile gave the answer away. In front of the Avatar… as if this day hadn’t been one embarrassment after another. Still, he nodded.

“Are you married?”

“Not yet,” he said, looking into his lap. “It’s… difficult to ask.”

“Do you think they’ll say yes?”

“I… I hope so. I don’t know what she sees in me, but--”

“Hey, none of that,” Avatar Korra scolded. “I know how you feel, but Asami taught me that if you respect the person you love, you respect her ridiculous decision to love you back. Right?”

“You… are you saying that _you_ felt inadequate?”

“For Asami! Heck yes I do!” She chuckled. “You should ask her.”

“Asami?”

“No! Your lady!”

“I… the perfect moment--”

“--will be whenever you ask her. The asking is what makes it perfect.”

Kadu blinked.

Avatar Korra smiled at him.

Kadu blinked again. “Uh… I guess I never thought of it that way?”

“Hey.” She met his eyes, her tone deadly serious. “If she gets you flustered, you know she’s worth it.”

“That’s...” He took a deep breath, swallowed, then bolted to his feet, jostling his desk. “Avatar Korra, I must apologize, but my office is closing early today. I’m afraid I have somewhere I need to be.”

“That’s the spirit!” she beamed, rising and sticking out her hand. “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” Kadu said, in a hurry to use this momentum before he chickened out.

She took his hand and shook it again. “What’s this for?” he asked.

“For knocking Raiko on his butt. I’ve wanted to do that for years.”

 

\---

 

“Pema, you really didn’t have to put all this together!” Opal said, helping her ferry an entire fleet of dishes to the table. “We were just stopping by!”

“Nonsense!” Pema said. “Ever since you and Bolin got married we never see you anymore! And with Mako and Tsu Ying visiting as well…” People always seemed to think she hated cooking, that it was somehow a burden. But stuffing the people she cared for full of delicious food was worth all the work, and besides… cooking was her meditation. “Besides, from what I hear, you and Bolin can use some lessons on running a home.”

“You’ve _heard!_ ” Pema wasn’t sure if Opal was annoyed or excited, but either way, they sat their dishes down and shared a quick hug.

“Word travels fast,” Pema agreed. “What are you hoping for?”

“Oh, you know, we’ll love them however it turns out, but I have my fingers crossed for a little airbender.”

“I was thinking more on the son-or-daughter front,” Pema said.

“Oh!” Opal slapped her forehead, laughing as they returned to the kitchen for another load of dishes. “We hadn’t thought about that yet.”

Pema chuckled. “Well, I can’t pretend a few more baby airbenders wouldn’t be wonderful. I wouldn’t feel so bad about retiring as the world’s only airbender factory.”

“Pema!” Opal gasped, shocked and delighted. Then, conspiratorially, she added, “I’ll see what I can do.”  

Over the course of two more trips to the table, Pema shared the most important bits of pregnancy advice she could think of. Early pregnancy was always such a wonderful time--for Pema--but she know that wasn’t always the case. She also knew that a Beifong woman would do things her own way, whatever Pema suggested--but at least planting some good ideas in her mind should help.

Tenzin, Mako, and Tsu Ying were deep in conversation as they entered, pausing near the door as Opal and Pema continued with the settings. That was easier said than done--after Tenzin’s injury made it impossible for him to kneel by the low table, as traditional, Asami had had the bright idea of putting the table on a raised platform, so the rest of the family could eat on their knees while Tenzin used a stool. This worked well in the meal itself, and it meant a lot to the family to be able to eat together as they always had, but now height-challenged people like her either had to climb onto the platform or lean over and risk falling.

“Here, let us,” Mako said--after a little nudging from his wife.

“Thank you,” Pema smiled. Cooking was creative and meditative; dishes were just a chore. “I’ll go call the kids in.”

“No need!” Bolin said, rushing in with Ikki, Meelo and Rohan in his wake. “There’s no way I’m gonna be late for a Pema meal!”

Pema snorted.

“That better apply to mine, too,” Opal said.

“But Opal… I do most of the cooking.”

“Which make my meals a special occasion.”

The two continued to bicker, while Mako and Tsu Ying finished ferrying out the food. Pema, satisfied at proceedings, went and sat by her husband. “Opal said she’s hoping for an airbender.”

Tenzin raised an eyebrow. “One Beifong is combative enough. I’m not sure what a whole branch of them will do to the Air Nation.”

“I imagine we’ll survive,” she said, resting her hand on the table near him. He moved his hand to cover it.

“I see there’s an extra setting,” Tenzin said, glancing across the table. “Is Ikki bringing another of her girlfriends over?”

“Not that I know of. And don’t sound so cross! She’s fourteen, the same age Jinora was when you finally admitted she and Kai were dating.”

He rolled his eyes, more at his past self than at her. “Well, at least that worked out well enough. Where are those two, anyhow? It was one thing to miss a meal or two when they were practicing for his trials, but he has passed them now.”

“That’s a good point. Meelo!” Pema announced, not raising her voice but slicing through the various conversations nonetheless. “Go get Jinora and Kai!”

“Aww, Mom--”

“One. Two--”

“Alright! I’ll get her!” He said, clambering away.

“Wow.” Bolin’s eyes were wide. “The way you said that, made _me_ want to go find them.”

“My mom never quite got that voice down,” Opal said, her own face more considering. She made a formal bow toward Pema. “I would be honored if you would teach me, oh honored master.”

Pema snorted. “I’ll be happy to. Everyone else, go ahead and start serving yourselves, the kids will be back soon enough!”

Family and guests started pulling lids off trays, then loading their plates with rice, steamed vegetables, sweet buns--she’d made extra, knowing how much Bolin liked them. The veggies by Mako had added spice, the way he and Tsu Ying liked it. Neither was likely to notice the special treatment, but that was honestly how she preferred it.

“I hope I’m not late,” Hotaru said from the doorway. She was staring at Mako with an assessing--or reassessing--look.

“We’re just sitting down,” Pema said, rising to greet her. They clasped wrists, briefly. “Princess Hotaru.”

“Thank you for letting me come,” she said, glancing away from Mako long enough to give her a genuine smile. Then, her attention returned to him. “You wanted to see what sort of investigation skills I have. Well, Mako, here I am.”

“Here we all are,” Tsu Ying said. She plopped an eggroll into her mouth, and managed to chew it in a thoroughly menacing way as she assessed the princess, without _quite_ becoming downright impolite. It reminded her a bit of Lin.

“What are you chuckling at?” Tenzin murmured.

“Nothing Mako wants to hear,” Pema whispered in reply. Then, loud enough for the table, “when I heard Princess Hotaru was visiting Republic City for the first time, I had to extend the Air Nation’s hospitality. I hadn’t realized you two had already met.”

“And I hadn’t realized my dinner plans were so widely known,” Mako said. “Might I ask your sources?”

“A journalist would no more reveal her sources than a spy would,” Hotaru answered.

“I’m not entirely clear on the difference,” Tsu Ying said. “Other than, spies play for actual stakes.”

“Oh, there are all sorts of differences,” Hotaru said pleasantly, sitting beside Mako. “Such as transparency and accountability.” Her tone was not as cutting as the words, and the wink she gave Mako made it all the more confusing.

Pema frowned, about ready to step in, but Tsu Ying snorted.

Mako shook his head. “And here I thought you were starting to take this seriously.”

“Serious things are often the funniest,” Tsu Ying shrugged.

Mako looked between the two women, and, though his mouth was empty, swallowed.

“So,” Opal said, clearing her throat. “What other child-rearing lessons can you think of?”

Pema thought as Jinora and Kai slinked in, Meelo stern-faced behind them. “Found these two hiding out over by the bending gates!”

“Well, they are here now,” Pema said. “Eat up. Jinora, I made your favorite noodle stew.”

“Why?” she asked.

Pema cocked her head. “Because it’s your favorite?”

“Sorry.” She looked down at her plate. “I mean, thank you.”

Ikki rolled her eyes, and for once, Pema let that go. Jinora had been acting moody of late. Perhaps she had mixed feelings about Kai becoming a master as well? Pema put it out of her mind, staring down the table and pondering Opal’s question. “Well, eating right is important,” she said. “A growing baby needs all the nutrients they can get.”

The noodle bowl slipped out of Jinora’s hand.

“Smooth move!” Meelo said, but where Pema would’ve scolded him, she found herself staring at Jinora. And Jinora staring back at her.

“I’ll get it!” Bolin said, leaning up over the table to scoop the spilled noodles up onto his plate. “This might not be the most proper solution, but Pema’s noodles are always so good, and besides, we’re all family here. Um, except for Princess Hotaru? Probably you’re a really nice person, but we just haven’t met you yet, and--”

Opal touched his arm.

“--and that’s my stop talking and sit down signal.” He stopped talking and sat down.

Opal chuckled, fishing a noodle off his plate with her own chopsticks. “Mom did warn me about the cravings she had for each of us. Said they were always different, too. Noodles like this were big when she was carrying Huan, I think.”

“Ooh, does that mean our kid will be an artist?” Bolin asked.

A chuckle rounded the table, but Pema didn’t smile. She watched Jinora.

Jinora wasn’t laughing, either. She was staring at her plate, her chopsticks trembling.

Pema scooted away from the table. “Jinora,” she said, keeping her posture as natural as she could. “Could you help me in the kitchen for a moment?”

“Oh,” Opal said, “I could--”

Pema set her hand on Opal’s shoulder, keeping her from standing. “That’s alright, Opal. Jinora can get it.”

With a final smile for the table, she turned, strolled into the kitchen, and made sure none of the acolytes were around. Whatever was bothering her daughter, she wanted to handle it quickly--and quietly.

Jinora came into the room, her steps slow, as if against resistance. Her hands were at her sides, and she wouldn’t meet Pema’s gaze.

Pema had seen her daughter stand up to Unavaatu with poise. What could _possibly_ make her this afraid? “Honey? What’s wrong?”

Jinora turned away, failing to hide a tear. She shook her head.

She frowned, motioned Jinora to come to her. As soon as she knew Jinora was out of sight of anyone in the dining room, she pulled her into a hug. Sure enough, Jinora began sobbing.

Even not knowing--for sure--what was making Jinora cry, Pema couldn’t help but cry, too. To see her daughter hurting, how could she not?

Contemplating what she thought the reason might be... how could she not cry at that, too?

 

\---

 

Kya had several important phone calls to make in order to get the bay venue prepared, as well as other assorted wedding business.

She had also had several emotional conversations with people she loved in recent days, was stressed as hell from all the social ramifications of being partners with the president, and had probably drank more than she should’ve lately.

Luckily, Kya in the past had been a genius for insisting on a few dozen extra feet of cord connecting the phone to the wall in their apartment. Enough that the receiver could be comfortably set on a little table next to the bathtub.

Water Tribe or no, once in a while, a steaming hot soak was just what her bones needed.

As soon as she settled in, she knew that she’d be living there for the rest of the day. When Lin got home, well, there was room enough in the tub for two.

Kya closed her eyes, sank to her shoulders, then picked up the phone to call Senna at the embassy.  

“Hello,” Senna greeted

“We’re going to need at least a hundred benders to get the ice thick enough,” Kya said, “at least a dozen working through the wedding to keep it from melting. If we’re clever and throw some earthbenders in there, we could set some sand in the top layer of the ice so people have traction. If anybody trips against it… well, having some waterbenders around to heal is a good idea, too.”

“Why, hello, Senna, how is your day going?” Senna said. “Oh, it’s fine, how are you, Kya?”

“The big day is almost here, we don’t need to waste time with pleasantries,” Kya replied.

“You’re in the bath, aren’t you?”

“It comes highly recommended,” Kya said. “Anyway, how many waterbenders can I count on you for?”

“To work? 40, easily. I could track down some more, if you like.”

“I’ll call the Northern embassy too, plus we should recruit some from in-town,” Kya said. “I want to have at least 10 extra, in case people flake out, you know how things go.”

“I do,” Senna said, clearly smiling over the phone. “Oh, before I forget, Asami has been trying to get in touch with you. Something about the parade route?”

“Isn’t it a little late to be changing that?”

“You’ll have to talk to her about it,” Senna chuckled.

So that was her next call. “Asami Sato speaking.”

“Yeah, so there’s something about the parade route?”

“Kya? Yes, yes I want to make a slight alteration. I was consulting a map of where the parade goes downtown, and I was wondering if it was possible to divert it an extra two blocks. To, um… 13th and Cranefish Avenue.”

Kya quirked her eyebrow, which had to look funny as her eyes were still shut. “I suppose… Works will have a fit about the late changes.”

“I doubt it,” Asami growled, and now Kya’s eyes _were_ open. “You let me know if it does.”

“Are you okay there, Asami?”

“Oh, I’m _just_ fine,” Asami said, her voice still sharp. “I realize that’s an extra mile or so of decoration that needs to be taken care of, but I’ve already taken the liberty of contacting the Kyoshi Society for Equal Love to take care of that.”

Kya sat up. “That’s… you know _I_ am all in favor for that, but I thought you wanted to downplay that aspect a bit, so as not to antagonize traditionalists.”

“Well, as Senna wisely pointed out to me, those ‘traditionalists’ are going to hate us anyway, no matter what we do. But more to the point… I’ve decided I rather enjoy antagonizing them.”

“Uh-huh…” Kya said, noting yet again that she should never get on this woman’s bad side. “I’ll… get right on that, then.”

“Thank you, Kya. That will be most satisfying.”

Kya hung the phone up, then sank back into her bath. It was a good thing Asami wasn’t organizing this all herself, because the Republic City bureaucracy probably wouldn’t have survived.

 

\---

 

Mako nursed his meal slowly with a growing sense of unease. Tenzin spoke to his children as if nothing were amiss, Bolin and Opal only had eyes for each other, but Jinora and Pema’s places remained empty long enough for their food to grow cold.

And Princess Hotaru had been gone nearly as long.

Tsu Ying leaned toward him, smiling at Meelo’s antics at the other end of the table. Her whispered tone, however, was entirely serious. “Your new girlfriend’s been gone an awful long time to just be powdering her nose.”

“If we’re both thinking that, something’s definitely up,” Mako muttered back. “You could follow her into the ladies’ room with fewer questions.”

“You know the layout here better. Besides, if she’s actually _in_  the ladies’ room, it’s not an actual problem.”

Spirits, but his wife was amazing. He took note to tell her as much, at length, later tonight. “I could use the restroom myself. Pardon me.”

Kai watched him go, with a look like he wanted to slide out of the room himself. There was definitely something going on there, too… but first things first.

Mako got to the bathroom, gave it a quick knock. No response. None expected, really--he was already thinking over his mental map of the home. If somebody had, say, wanted to overhear a conversation from the kitchen, where might be the easiest place to do that?

Just beside the restroom was an open breezeway--one of many letting air through the house, open to let in the still-warm evening air. Mako pulled a small mirror from his pocket--always served to be prepared--and glanced around the corner. Sure enough, he saw Hotaru leaning beside Pema’s kitchen window.

Amateur.

He put the mirror away, stepping out onto the walkway, pointing at Hotaru, then curling his finger to summon her away from the window.

Hotaru smirked, padding quietly toward him. “Why, Mako, if you wanted my attention, you could’ve made your interest more plain.”

“Mhm. So, what’s it to be? Decided you wanted a little fresh air? Got lost on the way back?”

“That would be rather insulting, wouldn’t it?” She shrugged. “I had a… let’s call it a ‘hunch’ that there might be a story here.”

Mako crossed his arms. “And exactly what sort of story could you find eavesdropping on an innocent child and her mother?”

“Jinora’s hardly a child, Mako,” Hotaru said, stepping closer to him. “Especially considering what I heard.”

“And what’s that?”

“Oh, has the mighty spymaster not picked up on this thread yet?” Hotaru smirked. “Well, perhaps check the Caldera Gazette in a few days’ time. You’ll find quite the human interest story.”

Mako grabbed her arm. “What is it.”

“Unhand me.”

“These people are basically my family. I can’t let you hurt them.”

“So you immediately stoop to threatening journalists?”

He tightened his grip. She grimaced, but held her smirk. “I fail to see how any story involve Jinora and Pema qualifies as news,” Mako said.

“Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Doesn’t make it news.”

“And should spies get to decide what the public does and does not get to hear? That sounds a bit like the bad old Dai Li now, doesn’t it?”

Mako quirked his head. “How can you manage to sound so self-righteous about airing somebody’s dirty laundry in front of the world?”

“Says the man using force to intimidate the free press?” She pulled her arm free, then reached up to pat his cheek. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lovely meal to return to. I wouldn’t want to be rude to my hosts.”

Mako took a breath, walking back behind her, not caring who saw them return at the same time.

Until he figured this out, he didn’t intend to let Princess Hotaru out of his sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My last semester beat the tar out of me, and Korrasami Month didn't give me much chance to write for this more complicated piece. But finally, here we are, continuing! Hope you enjoy -- the big day is getting closer and closer!

**Author's Note:**

> Will update on a strictly sporadic basis. :)


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